UC-NRLF 


w 


-,1 


^•\' 

kiw- 


*, 


^S7 


YONNONDIO, 


I 

WARRIORS  OF  THE  GENESEE: 


TALE  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY. 


WM.  H.  C.  HOSMER. 


' 

"  From  valley  broad  and  mountain's  brow 
Gone  are  the  Aganuschion  now." 


NEW- YORK : 


WILEY   &   PUTNAM. 

ROCHESTER : 
D.  M.  DEWEY,  2  ARCADE  HALL. 


1844, 

T 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1844, 

By  WM.  H.  C.  HOSMEB, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Northern  District  of 
New-York. 


D.  HOYT,  Printer, 
No.  G  State-street,  Rochester. 


SONNET  DEDICATORY. 


Thou  hast  been,  sire,  my  guardian  and  my  guide, 
And  therefore  it  is  meet  that  unto  thee 
The  few  stray  leaves  should  dedicated  be 

Which  I  commit  to  Fortune's  changeful  tide  : 

Thy  voice  aroused  me  from  desponding  mood, 
When  pale  with  letter'd  toil,  as  trumpet  blast, 

Heard  in  the  watch  of  midnight,  sendeth  blood. 

Through  veins  of  startled  warrior  warm  and  fast. 
In  Europe's  worn-out  world  I  have  not  sought 

Heroic  theme,  but  in  my  native  vale, 
Moved  by  the  red  man's  legendary  tale, 

Perchance  from  Nature's  altar-flame  have  caught 
One  kindling  spark — and,  Father,  if  my  strain 
Win  word  of  praise  from  thee,  I  have  not  sung  in  vain. 


948001 


PREFACE. 


A  friend,  on  hearing  that "  Yonnondio"  was  in  press, 
remarked  that  it  would  appear  at  an  unpropitious  hour. 

The  clamor  of  contending  parties  in  a  great  political 
contest,  I  am  aware,  is  well  calculated  to  drown  the 
low  undertone  of  a  poet's  lute  ;  but  the  same  cause,  by 
distracting  the  attention  of  criticism,  may  render  the 
voice  of  censure  less  harsh  and  loud. 

The  Poem  is  descriptive  of  events  that  transpired, 
in  the  valley  of  the  Genesee,  during  the  summer  and 
autumn  of  1687 — of  the  memorable  attempt  of  the 
Marquis  De  Nonville,  under  pretext  of  preventing  an 
interruption  of  the  French  trade,  to  plant  the  standard 
of  Louis  XIV.  in  the  beautiful  country  of  the  Senecas. 

Impartial  history  has  convicted  the  Marquis  of  an 
open  infraction  of  the  treaty  made  at  Whitehall,  in  the 
previous  year,  between  Great  Britain  and  France,  by 
which  it  was  settled  that  the  Indian  trade  in  America 
should  remain  free  to  both  crowns. 

The  Five  Nations  were  in  alliance  with  the  former. 

and  English  parties  were  cut  off  on  the  Lakes,  their 
A2  • 


VI.  PREFACE. 


effects  seized,  and  their  persons  imprisoned,  previous 
to  any  hostile  demonstration  on  the  part  of  the  Senecas. 
*  I  shall  not  apologize  to  my  readers  for  clothing  a 
stable  frame-work  of  fact  with  the  shifting  drapery  of 
fancy — it  is  the  bard's  prerogative  by  immemorial 
usage;  nor  will  I  advert  to  hero  and  heroines,  sum- 
moned from  "  Dream  Land"  further  than  to  say  that 
in  Blanche  I  have  endeavored  to  portray  a  true-hearted 
woman  strong  and  faithful  in  her  love,  and  sustained 
in  the  hour  of  trial  by  a  firm  reliance  on  Heaven. 

D'Lisle,  I  will  admit,  is  not  a  fair  representative  of 
that  famous  Order  who  pioneered  the  way  on  this  con- 
tinent, for  the  march  of  civilization.  Many  of  Loyola's 
followers  were  the  messengers  of  peace  and  good 
will  to  man,  though  their  subtle  and  dissembling 
policy  was  ever  to  make  political  proselytes  through 
the  agency  of  religion. 

In  conclusion,  let  me  add,  that  I  have  essayed  to 
throw  the  mantle  of  Romance  over  the  pleasant  scenes 
of  my  boyhood  ;  and  if  my  failure  has  been  signal,  the 
most  censorious  must  admit  that  the  design  is  worthy 
of  commendation. 

AVON,  Aug.  24,  1844. 


w 


PROEM. 


Realm  of  the  Senecas !  no  more 

In  shadow  lies  the  Pleasant  Vale ; 
G-one  are  the  Chiefs  who  ruled  of  yore, 

Like  chaff  before  the  rushing  gale. 
Their  rivers  run  with  narrowed  bounds, 
Cleared  are  their  broad,  old  hunting  grounds, 
And  on  their  ancient  battle  fields 
The  greensward  to  the  ploughman  yields  ; 
Like  mocking  echoes  of  the  hill 
Their  fame  resounded  and  grew  still, 
And  on  green  ridge  and  level  plain 
Their  hearths  will  never  smoke  again. 
When  fade  away  the  summer  flowers, 
And  come  the  bright  autumnal  hours, 
The  ripened  grain  above  their  graves 
Nods  to  the  wind  in  golden  waves. 
Fled  are  their  pomp  and  power  like  dreams, 
By  scribe  unmarked,  by  bard  unsung ; 
But  mountains,  lakes  and  rolling  streams 


s  ,  PROEM. 

Recall  their  wild  rich  forest  tongue, 
And  names  of  melody  they  bear, 
Sweeter  than  flute-notes  on  the  air. 


Oblivion  swallows,  one  by  one, 
Old  legends  by  the  sire  to  son 

Around  the  crackling  camp-fire  told — 
Their  oaks  have  fallen,  trunk  and  bough, 
And  hut  and  hall  of  council  now 

Are  changed  to  ashes  cold. 
Toiled  have  I  many  a  weary  day 
To  gather  their  traditions  grey, 
And  rescue  from  effacing  time 
A  few  brave  deeds  and  traits  sublime. 
Now  listen,  for  the  tale  I  tell 
Perchance  may  be  remembered  well, 
Though  coarsely  framed  my  sylvan  lyre, 
Harsh  its  wild  tone,  untuned  its  wire ! 


YONNONDIO. 


CANTO    FIRST. 


THE    CAMP. 

Lovely  is  Summer  in  old  Mother  Land, 

Lighting  up  garden,  park  and  pasture  green  ; 
Wrecks  of  monastic  pomp,  and  castle  grand, 

Forever  hallowed  features  of  the  scene ! 
But  lovelier  look  the  nymph  puts  on,  I  ween, 

Amid  lone  forests  of  the  "Western  World, 
Though  brown  of  visage  and  untamed  of  mien — 

Moss-fringed  her  robe — her  ringlets  all  uncurled 
With  dew  in  leafy  halls,  at  noontide  hour  impearled. 

Oak  groves  of  merry  England  are  renowned 
In  rustic  legend  and  in  polished  lay ; 

Mort  on  the  horn  her  early  monarchs  wound, 
While  bled  the  stag,  beneath  their  branches  gray, 

And  still  their  iron  trunks  defy  decay — 
But  rugged  woods  of  our  Hesperian  clime 


10  YONNONDIO. 

Have  wider  empire  : — clothed  in  dark  array 

That  graced  their  arches  at  the  birth  of  Time, 
When  new-born  spheres,  with  song,  began  their  march 
sublime. 


Through  pines  that  crowned  the  wooded  steep. 

Winds,  freshened  by  the  lake  were  sighing, 

And  in  his  basin,  broad  and  deep, 

Irondequoit  was  darkly  lying. 

A  deeper,  more  luxuriant  green, 

In  grassy  spire  and  wood-plant  seen ; 

A  clearer  tinkle  in  the  rill, 

And  light  more  lustrous  on  the  hill, 

A  richer  fragrance  in  the  breeze, 

And  wilder,  sweeter  melodies, 

Told  that  serene  and  happy  May 

To  summer  had  resigned  her  sway  ; 

That  arching  sky  had  caught  its  hue 

From  June's  clear  orb  of  radiant  blue. 

n. 

Earth  was  in  gala  dress  arrayed, 

And  blushed  with  flowers  the  forest  mould, 
While  stately  tulip  trees  displayed 

Their  honied  cups  of  glistening  gold ; 


THE   CAMP.  11 

Rich  robe  was  over  maple  flung  ; 
On  chestnut  golden  tassel  hung ; 
Light  airs  a  slumberous  tune  evoked 
From  leaves  that  trembling  poplar  cloaked, 
And  oaks  a  thicker  foliage  bore, 
To  canopy  the  forest  floor ; 
Where  open  space  on  hill  side  lay, 
Exposed  to  ripening  warmth  of  day, 
The  sod,  with  strawberries  bestrown, 
Was  tinted  like  the  ruby-stone. 

in. 

Far  up  the  reedy  bay  were  seen 

Bright  upland  swells  with  vales  between, 

Through  which  ran  brooks  of  crystal  sheen  ; 

The  lily-stem  its  silver  cup 

Above  the  water  lifted  up, 

And  throwing  on  deep  pool  a  shade, 

Waved  the  long  flag  its  emerald  blade ; 

To  crumbling  marge,  with  eager  cries, 

The  heron  bore  his  dripping  prize, 

And  down  the  rough  uneven  bank 

The  snorting  wild  deer  came  and  drank ; 

Amid  the  reeds  that  fringed  the  shore 

The  water-rat  and  otter  swam, 

And  fearlessly  the  beaver  bore 

His  tooth -hewn  timber  to  the  dam. 

Wild  was  the  scene  ! — his  ragged  cone, 


12  YONNONDJO. 

Old  mossy  hemlock  reared  on  high, 

The  forest  eagle's  lofty  throne 

When  tired  of  circling  in  the  sky. 

The  mock-bird,  perched  on  bending  spray, 

Woke  his  sweet,  imitative  lay ; 

With  arching  neck  and  air  of  pride, 

The  white  swan  floated  on  the  tide; 

And  gabbling  in  sequestered  cove, 

The  black  duck  oiled  her  breast,  and  dove. 

IV. 

East  of  Irondequoit  the  scene 

Was  rich  in  robes  of  living  green, 

But  ruder  charm  romantic  gaze 

Found  on  the  Western  shore  to  praise ; 

For  the  huge  monarchs  of  the  wood 

In  straggling  groups  disparted  stood, 

As  if  they  did  not  wish  to  break 

The  broad  blue  prospect  of  the  Lake, 

Their  playmate  when  the  rugged  earth 

Gave  stem  and  leaf  a  hardy  birth ; 

Whose  bath  of  cool,  refreshing  spray 

Had  wet  them  many  a  summer  day ; 

Whose  surge  kept  time  upon  the  shore 

When  night-blast  woke  their  branches  hoar, 

In  concert  with  the  hollow  roar. 

On  naked  point  of  table-land 

That,  beetling  o'er  the  polished  strana, 


THE  CAMP.  13 

Commanded  view  of  wave  and  wood 
Two  natives  of  the  region  stood ; 
And  crouching  fondly  at  their  feet 
Graunt  wolf  dogs  panted  with  the  heat. 

v. 

Knives  in  their  braided  girdles  hung, 
To  which  the  purple  stain  yet  clung, 
And  pouches  grim  with  dangling  claws, 
Bead-broidered  tail  and  grinning  jaws. 
Rude  jewels  in  the  shape  of  globes, 
And  rings  depended  from  their  ears, 
Slit  lengthwise  to  the  pliant  lobes  ; 
And  twinkled  like  resplendent  tears 
That  morning  finds  upon  the  leaf, 
Drops  from  the  urn  of  joy,  not  grief. 
Thongs  to  the  graceful  limbs  made  fast, 

The  scarlet  leggin  laced  with  quills, 
By  bird  and  bristling  hedge-hog  cast, 

And  edged  with  long  and  gaudy  frills. 
Adorned  with  feathers  brightly  dyed, 

And  ornaments  of  bone  and  shell ; 
Trim  hunting  frock  of  smoke-tann'd  hide 

Their  manly  forms  befitted  well. 
Light  hoofs  of  deer  on  sinew  strung 

Were  closely  to  the  ancle  bound, 
And  when  the  foot  was  lifted,  rung 
With  a  low,  strange  and  rattling  sound  ; 


14  YONNONDIO. 

Their  rounded  heads  were  shorn  and  bare. 
Save  cherished  tufts  of  streaming  hair, 
Left  for  the  grasp  of  mortal  foe, 
If  destiny  should  aid  his  blow- 
When  meet  wild  warriors  of  the  wood 
To  quench  Hate's  ghastly  torch  in  blood. 
Bard  would  have  said  with  kindling  brain, 
Could  he  have  gazed  upon  the  twain, 
"  Behold,  reposing  from  the  chase, 
The  guardian  spirits  of  the  place, 
And  study  for  inspired  hour 
When  bosom  thrills  with  sense  of  power;" 

Would  sculptor  in  their  forms  have  found, 
Full  of  wild  energy  and  grace, 
And  the  marked  features  of  their  race 

By  Nature's  brush  embrowned. 

VI. 

Tone,  dignity  of  step  and  mien, 

Apart  from  flaunting  pomp  of  dress, 
In  courtly  hall  and  forest  green, 

Denote  high  birth  and  kingliness  : 
Brow,  lip  and  haughty  glance  betray 
A  personage  of  kingly  sway, 
Though  no  dread  symbol  of  command 
Is  flashing  in  the  jewelled  hand ; 
And  persons  of  monarchal  mould 
Were  those  dark  hunters  of  the  wold  j 


THE  CAMP.  15 

And  likeness  to  each  other  bore 

Observable  to  careless  eye, 
Not  only  in  the  garb  they  wore, 

But  bearing  resolute  and  high. 

VII. 

The  senior  of  the  two  was  tall, 

But  in  his  frame  symmetrical, 

And  chronicled  were  former  wars 

On  brow  and  breast  in  "glorious  scars." 

Though  seventy  vanished  years  to  white 

Had  scalp  lock  changed  once  black  as  night, 

Still  could  his  eye  direct  the  shaft, 

His  hand  the  whirling  hatchet  guide, 
Or  knife-blade  redden  to  the  haft, 

When  close  encounter  prowess  tried. 
Hours  lapsed  away,  and  neither  broke 
The  silence  of  the  place,  or  spoke, 
But  stood  in  attitude  to  hear 
Sounds  only  caught  by  tutored,  ear, 
While  looked  they  forth  with  searching  glance 
On  Cadaracqui's  calm  expanse, 
For  floating  on  his  bosom  blue 
Large  objects  slowly  loomed  to  view. 

VIII. 

At  last  the  younger  woodman  cried, 
For  weapon  feeling  at  his  side, 


16  YONNONDIO. 

4 

"  Look,  Father  ! — gleaming  in  the  sun, 

Are  pointed  spear,  long  knife  and  gun, 

While  hither,  on  the  swelling  waves, 

Float  Yonnondio's  hostile  braves!" 

"  Yes,  boy ! — those  war-canoes  are  mann'd 

By  foemen  to  our  native  land ; 

They  hope  to  wrap  our  huts  in  flame, 

And  blot  from  memory  our  name  ; 

My  people  unprepared  assail, 

Change  the  light  laugh  to  dying  wail, 

And  flowers  tread  down  that  fragrance  shed 

On  grave-mounds  of  our  honored  dead. 

I  fear  them  not  ! — three  moons  ago 

My  warriors  laid  their  bravest  low, 

And  gory  scalps,  on  homeward  track, 

To  shrivel  in  the  smoke  bore  back. 

Look,  look !  a  viler  race  is  near — 

The  coward  Hurons  guide  them  here, 

And  fondly  hope,  in  lucky  hour. 

To  crush  the  Aganuschion  power : 

But  will  they  find  a  dreaming  foe  1 

No,  thanks  to  Ou-we-nee-you,*  no! 

When  hunters  for  the  panther  search 

They  never  find  their  game  asleep, 
But  watchful  on  his  lofty  perch, 

And  crouching  for  the  deadly  leap. 

*  Great  Spirit. 


THE  CAMP.  17 

. 
IX. 

. 

Their  dangerous  post  those  warriors  kept, 
Until  they  heard  the  plash  of  oar, 
While  heavily  the  blade  was  swept, 
Affrighting-  wild  fowl  on  the  shore ; 
Then  the  loud,  startling  war-whoop  raised, 
One  moment  on  the  pageant  gazed, 
And  sought,  with  footstep  quick  and  light, 
Screen  in  thick  wilderness  from  sight. 

x. 

The  proud  flotilla  in  the  bay 
Cast  anchor  near  the  close  of  day, 
Scaring  the  wild- wolf,  grim  and  gaunt, 
From  old,  hereditary  haunt, 
And  startling  in  his  mossy  lair, 
With  iron  clang  of  arms,  the  bear. 
The  sun  descending,  bathed  in  light, 
Steep,  naked  bluff  and  pine-capped  height, 
And  varied  tints  of  lustrous  glow 
Flung  on  the  lucent  waves  below, 
That  kissed,  by  gentle  south  wind  fann'd, 
With  murmur  soft  the  glittering  strand. 

XI. 

It  would  have  been  a  thrilling  sight 
Troops  to  have  seen  in  trappings  bright — 


18  YONNONDIO. 

Whose  guns  had  poured  the  leaden  rain 

On  storied  fields  across  the  main, 

And  heard  the  trumpet's  martial  call 

Sound  triumph-note  for  brave  old  Gaul, 

By  hundreds  landed  on  a  shore 

Where  sabre  never  rang  before — 

By  leaders  who  had  freely  bled 

In  wars  of  mighty  Louis,  led — 

Chiefs  who  on  Steenkirk's  plain  had  fought, 

And  battle's  heart  at  Landen  sought. 

XII. 

De  Nonville  with  an  eye  of  skill 
Took  measurement  of  slope  and  hill, 
And  tents  were  pitched,  by  his  command, 
On  swells  of  undulating  land, 
Well  guarded  on  the  weaker  flanks, 
By  water  and  opposing  banks ; 
While  open  front,  or  esplanade, 
Was  wisely  left  for  prompt  parade, 
If  chance  the  tocsin  of  alarm 
Should  call  upon  the  host  "to  arm!" 
The  pickets,  helmeted  and  mailed, 
For  nightly  vigil  were  detailed  ; 
The  sentinel  was  shown  the  bounds, 
Wherein  to  pace  his  lonely  rounds, 
And  in  advance,  the  tried  vidette, 
To  guard  each  pass  to  camp,  was  set. 


THE  CAMP.  19 

XIII. 

Their  savage  allies  plumed  for  strife, 
And  armed  with  hatchet,  club  and  knife, 
In  dusky  groups,  beneath  the  shade, 
Their  sylvan  lodge  and  watch-fire  made, 
Or  ranged  the  copse  with  ready  bow, 
To  spy  out  trace  of  lurking  foe  ; 
For  the  fierce  Huron  of  Lorette, 

And  stern  Algonquin  of  the  north, 
Whose  soil  the  Seneca  had  wet 

With  blood  and  tears,  were  going  forth 
To  crush  the  conqueror,  and  leave 
No  mourner  for  the  slain  to  grieve, 
If  vengeance  could  the  task  achieve. 

XIV. 

Nose,  ear  and  neck,  with  jewels  hung, 
And  wild  words  of  their  forest  tongue ; 
Rude  quivers  on  the  shoulder  borne, 
From  spotted  fawn  and  wild-cat  torn ; 
The  gleaming  cincture  round  the  waist, 
Prized  ornament  of  savage  taste ; 
Paint  on  their  scowling  faces  spread, 
In  horrid  streaks  of  black  and  red — 
Their  bucklers  of  defensive  form, 
Frail  guardians  in  the  battle  storm, 


20  YONNONDIO. 

Bore  strange  unlikeness  to  the  dress, 

Bright  armor,  martial  haughtiness, 

And  discipline  of  soldiers,  famed 

Whenever  "  warrior"  is  named  : 

Whose  charge  had  strewn  the  earth  with  dead 

While  Luxemburgh  and  Vauban  led, 

Or  in  the  combat,  man  to  man, 

Had  seen  with  hardihood  unshrinking 

The  plume  of  Conde  in  the  van, 

Where  Death  his  reddest  draught  was  drinking. 

xv. 

Tribes,  who  with  Yonnondio  came 
Hereditary  wrongs  to  right, 
Abandoning  pursuit  of  game 
For  issues  of  the  doubtful  fight, 
Were  under  conduct  of  D'Lisle, 
A  man  of  energy  and  wile ; 
And  priest  of  that  strange  order  known 
From  clime  to  clime,  and  zone  to  zone — 
Whose  pilgrims  in  the  world  of  thought 
The  secret  springs  of  knowledge  sought, 
And  deemed  it  feminine  to  dwell, 
Monastic  drones,  in  convent  cell : 
Whose  members,  by  ambition  fired, 
Forged  fetters  of  religious  thrall, 
And  tyranny  o'er  minds  acquired 
In  savage  hut  and  lordly  hall : 


THE   CAMP.  21 

Braved,  to  extend  their  mystic  league, 
Dark  peril,  hunger  and  fatigue, 
Upraised  the  rod  of  mystic  sway 
In  distant  Ind  and  Paragua, 
Sought  with  the  vesper  hymn  and  psalm 
Saint  Lawrence  and  his  isles  of  balm — 
Made  voluble  the  wooing  air, 
Round  holy  Horicon  with  prayer, 
Nor  scrupled  with  the  cross  and  sword, 
To  head  a  wild,  barbaric  horde. 

XVI. 

D'Lisle  made  use  of  subtle  arts 
To  graft  his  creed  on  savage  hearts, 
And  won,  by  gift  and  gilded  bribe, 
Esteem  of  many  a  forest  tribe. 
Like  them,  he  painted  face  and  lip, 

And  rpbed  his  limbs  in  skin  of  beast, 
And  sate,  in  joyous  fellowship, 

AVith  quivered  warriors  at  the  feast ; 
Dark,  floating  Rumor  linked  his  name, 
Among  his  countrymen,  with  shame — 
Some  even  whispered  that  he  fled 
In  terror  from  his  native  clime, 
And  bore  a  keen  stiletto,  red 
From  point  to  hilt  with  crime  ; 
And  many  hinted  that  his  soul 
Was  far  too  proud  for  priestly  stole, 


22  YONNONDIO. 

And  that  his  broad  and  iron  hand 
Could  better  clutch  the  heavy  brand, 
Than  grasp  with  meek,  uplifted  eye, 
The  sacred  vase  or  rosary. 

XVII. 

Night  with  her  sombre  shadows  came, 

And  on  the  waters  dark  and  still, 
Was  flung  the  ruddy  light  of  flame, 

By  beacon  kindled  on  the  hill ; 
The  muffled  owl,  foreboding  bird, 
Complaining  on  her  perch  was  heard  ; 
The  wild  beast  caught  the  scent  of  men, 
And  hurried  to  his  brambly  den  ; 
The  whippoorwill  beguiled  the  hours 
With  tender  lay  in  leafy  bowers, 
Rejoicing  that  the  time  of  dews 
Had  blotted  out  the  sunset  hues, 
While  stars,  in  absence  of  the  sun, 
Shot  forth  in  beauty,  one  by  one, 
And  bathed  in  rich,  romantic  sheen, 
The  tops  of  pine  and  hemlock  green, 
And  gave  a  soft,  transparent  glow, 
To  slumbering  Ontario, 

XVIII. 

The  sentry  on  his  lonely  post 
Moved  to  and  fro  with  iron  tramp ; 


THE  CAMP. 

And  the  loud  tumult  of  the  host 
Grew  fainter  in  the  guarded  camp  ; 
The  wearied  conscript,  young  in  years, 
Torn  from  his  native  vale  with  tears 
To  mingle  in  the  war-array, 
From  home  and  hearth-stone  far  away, 
In  dreams  of  his  paternal  cot 
The  miseries  of  life  forgot : 
Heard  the  glad  vintagers  again 
Chant  gaily  some  old  peasant  strain, 
While  gleaning  clusters  from  the  vine, 
Or  pressing  out  the  crimson  wine. 
Once  more,  in  visions  of  repose, 
The  distant  village  spire  arose, 
And  on  his  ear  with  soothing,  fell 
The  monotone  of  evening  bell. 
Again  he  tried  his  vaunted  speed 
With  jocund  brothers,  on  the  mead, 
And  marked  his  sister,  young  and  fair, 
Plait  garlands  for  her  flowing  hair— - 
Met  that  devoted  maid  once  more, 

Who  wildly  wept  from  him  to  sever, 
And  by  the  Star  of  Lovers  swore 

To  prove  unfaithful  never. 
Once  more  the  smiling  dreamer  heard 
That  being  breatKe  familiar  word, 
Who  watched  his  infancy,  and  made 

A  pillow  of  her  breast  for  him  ; 


24  YONNONDIO. 

And  thought  her  care  would  be  repaid, 
By  fond  caress  and  filial  aid, 

When  her  mild  eye  grew  dim. 
Beneath  his  own  unclouded  skies, 
Scenes  of  historic  glory  spread, 
And  back  came  early  memories 

Like  phantoms  of  the  dead — 
The  huge  chateau  of  other  days, 
Proud  object  of  his  childish  gaze, 
Uplifted  as  in  former  hours 
Its  moss-grown  battlements  and  towers ; 
And  entering  deserted  halls 
Through  fissures  in  the  leaning  walls, 
The  wild  winds  sang  in  hollow  tone 
Of  valor  fled,  and  beauty  gone. 

XIX. 

Extended,  too,  on  couch  of  earth 

The  veteran  of  proven  worth, 

A  fleeting  visit  paid  in  sleep 

To  kindred  o'er  the  tossing  deep. . 

Nigh  graves,  wherein  his  fathers  slept, 

The  Loire  in  silver  windings  swept, 

And  gladly  he  beheld  once  more 

The  hamlet  where  they  dwelt  of  yore. 

The  blood  ran  quicker  through  his  frame, 

When  loved  ones  shouted  out  his  name, 

And  that  poor  wife,  who  pining  long 


THE  CAMP.  25 

Breathed  snatches  oft  of  mournful  song, 
And  nightly  prayed,  on  bended  knee, 
That  God  would  stretch  protecting  arm, 
And  guard  by  land,  or  whelming  sea, 

Her  absent  mate  from  harm — 
Right  toward  him  came  on  flying  feet, 
Her  wedded  lord  once  more  to  greet, 
While  chubby  lads,  in  gay  attire, 
Laughed  welcome  to  their  war-worn  sire. 

xx. 

. 
While  thus  the  dreaming  soldier  lay, 

Rude  pillow  of  his  knapsack  making, 
Regardless  that  the  coming  day 

Might  bring  repose  that  knows  no  waking, 
Paced  hurriedly  within  his  tent, 
A  chieftain  of  the  armament, 
Erect  he  moved,  though  on  his  head 
The  frost  of  sixty  years  was  spread, 
And  well  his  martial  dress  became 
The  fine  proportions  of  his  frame. 
His  helm  and  corslet,  soiled  and  worn, 
The  brunt  of  many  frays  had  borne  ; 
And  bjazing  badge  upon  his  breast, 
His  knighthood  and  his  rank  expressed. 
No  pleasant  vision  of  delight 
To  lull  his  soul,  was  brought  by  night, 
And  slumber  o'er  him  waved  in  vain 


26  TONNONDIO. 

The  wand  of  her  quiescent  reign. 

His  brow  contracted  to  a  frown, 

Blanched  cheek  and  gloomy  eye  cast  down, 

Unerringly  bespoke  a  man 

Whose  thoughts  in  gloomy  currents  ran — 

Who  vengefully  had  brooded  long 

O'er  deep  and  unforgiven  wrong, 

With  heart  corroded  to  its  core 

By  bitter  memories  of  yore. 

At  last  a  sudden  pause  he  made, 

And  hand  upon  his  dagger  laid  ; 

For  indistinctly  on  his  ear 

Came  the  low  sound  of  footstep  near — 

Then  from  the  hilt  his  hand  withdrew, 

As  the  dark  form  of  one  he  knew 

Strode  through  an  opening  in  the  tent ; 

And  on  his  visitant  he  bent 

A  searching,  anxious  glance,  and  cried — 

"  What  tidings,  father,  of  my  child  ? 

Speak,  for  my  brain  is  waxing  wild  !" 

"  She  lives  /"  the  Jesuit  replied. 

"  And  her  betrayer1?"     "  Soon  will  feel 

The  temper  of  avenging  steel." 

"  Where  lurks  the  fiend  of  perjured  soul, 

Who  came  in  human  guise  and  stole 

The  young  and  last  surviving  flower 

That  grew  in  my  domestic  bower  ? 

Left  on  my  honorable  name 


THE   CAMP.  27 


The  mildew  of  eternal  shame, 

Then  made  my  fond,  old  heart  the  tomb 

Of  bliss  and  expectation  fair, 

And  peopled  its  sepulchral  gloom 

With  tiger  passions  and  despair." 

XXI. 

The  maid  and  her  seducer  dwell 

With  that  fierce  tribe  we  wish  to  quell ; 

I  wrung  the  tidings  from  a  foe 

Caught  near  our  lines  an  hour  ago  ; 

For  well  I  speak  and  understand 

The  dialect  of  this  wild  land, 

And  oft  have  borne  the  cross  among 

The  natives  of  this  valley  bright, 

And  won  by  soft,  persuasive  tongue 

Full  many  a  tawny  proselyte. 

Though  words  of  vengeance  you  may  deem 

Unsuited  to  my  calling  meek  ; 

That  holy  types  but  ill  beseem 

The  glow  of  hatred  on  my  cheek  ; 

You  will  not  marvel  when  you  hear 

The  tale  I  breathe  into  your  ear, 

That  memories  of  hoarded  wrong 

Within  my  bosom  also  throng — 

Wrong  that  the  blood  of  cursed  DeGrai 

Alone  can  heal  or  wash  away. 

The  hunter  following  the  stag, 


28  YONNONDIO. 

May  faint  with  weariness,  and  lag—- 
The dove  in  airy  speed  may  balk 
Her  swooping  enemy  the  hawk — 
The  timid  lamb  may  shelter  find, 
When  the  gaunt  night-wolf  howls  behind- 
The  bandit  may  his  cavern  gain, 
While  baffled  huntsmen  search  in  vain ; 
But  never  yet  did  foe  escape, 
W^hen  foot  of  mine  was  on  his  track, 
Though  peril,  in  appalling  shape, 
Stood  in  the  path  to  warn  me  back. 

XXII. 

I  know  your  ancient  castle  well, 
That  overlooks  the  blue  Moselle, 
And  envied,  when  a  puny  boy, 
The  wealth  and  titles  of  Le  Troye; 
For  though  my  rude  and  peasant  sires 

Were  humble  servitors  of  thine, 
Ambition  never  kindled  fires 

Within  a  prouder  heart  than  mine. 
Oft,  oft  in  dreams  of  high  renown, 

While  sitting  by  the  rustic  hearth, 
My  soul  would  for  a  season  drown 

Desponding  thought  of  lowly  birth, 
But  memory  her  eye  would  ope, 
And  crush  the  radiant  flowers  of  Hope, 
Convert  my  fabrics,  frail  and  fair, 


THE   CAMP.  29 

To  empty,  unsubstantial  air. 
Long  nights  of  toil,  and  weary  days, 
I  strove  to  win  scholastic  bays, 
A  miner  in  the  well  of  Truth, 
Unmindful  of  the  sports  of  youth ; 
But  lacking  patronage  and  gold, 
The  fervor  of  my  brain  grew  cold. 
In  after  years  when  Gaul  awoke, 

And  urged  her  nobles  to  the  field, 
A  gleam  upon  the  darkness  broke, 

And  gory  paths  to  fame  revealed. 
O'er  musty  books  of  ancient  lore 
My  mounting  spirit  loved  to  pore 
In  monkish  idleness  no  more  : 
I  heard  the  warning  bugle  blow, 
And  saw  the  greeting  winds  untwine 
The  banner  of  your  ancient  line, 
And  liegemen  to  the  muster  go, 
With  pulses  panting  for  the  foe ; 
Then  buckling  on  a  rusted  blade, 
Went,  like  my  sires,  your  House  to  aid, 

XXIII. 

Sir  Knight,  at  times  bethink  you  not 
Of  that  young  soldier  of  your  corps, 
Who  on  the  field  of  Cassel  fought, 
And  through  a  storm  of  fire  and  shot 

The  tattered  colors  bore, 
e2 


30  YONNONDIO. 

Snatched  by  his  daring  from  the  plain 
When  the  bold  bannerman  was  slain  ? 
"Hah,  by  the  saints,  said  old  Le  Troye, 
"  Your  voice  reminds  me  of  that  boy — 
"Is  not  your  true  address,  Mordaunt?" 
No !  but  the  stripling  was  my  friend, 
And  found  a  dark,  untimely  end ; 
Oft  comes,  my  midnight  couch  to  haunt, 
His  spectre  colorless  and  gaunt, 
And  vengeance  goads  me  like  a  spur, 
To  find  and  slay  his  murderer. 

XXIV. 

I  well  remember  that  you  made 
Mordaunt  upon  .the  field  your  aid ; 
And  wondering  that  one  so  brave 

Was  in  the  vernal  time  of  life, 
Presented  him  your  own  good  glaive, 

Yet  red  and  reeking  with  the  strife. 
When  wearied,  to  your  broad  domain 
Retainers  were  led  back  again, 
Your  daughter,  full  of  grace  and  fair, 

Came  ambling  on  her  palfrey  fleet, 
With  diamonds  flashing  in  her  hair, 

A  father  and  his  troop  to  greet : 
And  that  she  fixed  admiring  gaze 

On  the  young  hero  by  your  side, 
While  prodigal  of  smiles  and  praise 


THE   CAMP.  31 

You  told  her  of  his  valor  tried — 
How  in  the  melee  of  the  fight 

He  wrested  from  a  dead-man's  hold 
The  gonfalon  no  longer  bright, 

And  waved  on  high  its  ragged  fold ; 
I  well  remember  that  a  shout 
From  bearded  lips  rang  gaily  out, 
When  lightly  from  her  snowy  neck 

A  chain  of  gleaming  gold  she  took, 
The  chivalrous  Mordaunt  to  deck, 

And  told  him,  with  a  downcast  look, 
To  keep  the  bauble  as  a  meed 
From  woman  for  heroic  deed. 

XXV.  \ 

You  gave  the  favorite  a  place 

In  the  proud  Castle  of  your  race, 

And  mortal  cannot  deem  it  strange 

That  one  thus  raised  from  low  estate 
Should  undergo  a  sudden  change 

While  mingling  with  the  Great ; 
Or  marvel  that  the  stripling  grew 
Elated  and  presumptuous  too — 
Forgetful  in  his  dream  of  fame, 
That  his  was  not  a  titled  name, 
And  that  his  fathers,  like  mine  own, 
Were  heirs  to  poverty  alone. 
The  Lady  Blanche,  your  peerless  child, 


YONNONDIO. 

Upon  the  beardless  minion  smiled, 
And  chose  him  from  the  waiting  train, 
To  gallop  at  her  bridle  rein, 
And  be  her  page  in  bower  and  hall, 
A  post  of  honor  craved  by  all. 

XXVI. 

She  used,  when  pensive  twilight  brought 
Sweet  moments  of  romantic  thought, 
To  hear  him  wake  the  warbling  lute, 
And  to  her  mood  the  measure  suit-~ 
Unknowing  that  a  word  of  praise, 
When  ended  were  his  glowing  lays, 
In  rich,  impressive  accent  spoken, 
Would  nurse  an  overdaring  dream, 
And  to  the  blinded  minstrel  seem 
Of  her  regard  a  thrilling  token. 
Warmed  by  her  smile,  with  vigorous  start, 
First  love  upgrew  within  his  heart, 
Like  flower  matured  by  tropic  sun  ; 
And  spurning  bonds  of  weak  control, 
The  crowning  passion  of  his  soul 
Wild  mastery  of  reason  won ; 
And  in  a  luckless  hour  he  made 
Rash  proffer  of  his  heart  and  hand, 
And  only  found,  when  prostrate  laid, 
That  his  high  hopes  were  based  on  sand. 
Your  daughter  heard  the  youth  avow 


THE  CAMP.  33 

His  feelings  with  an  angry  brow, 
And  in  a  tone  of  blighting  scorn, 
Styled  her  adorer  '  lowly  born,' 
And  bade  him  stoop  his  towering  head 
To  woo  a  bride  in  cottage  bred, 
But  never,  in  enamored  strain, 
Address  a  noble  maid  again. 

XXVII. 

Changed  was  his  bearing  from  that  hour  ; 

He  sought  no  more  her  chosen  bower, 

To  cull  some  precious  token  flower. 

One  eve  I  met  him  on  the  road 

Conducting  to  my  rude  abode, 

And  face  again,  so  sad  and  pale, 

I  pray  I  never  may  behold, 

While  mournfully  to  me  his  tale 

Of  unrequited  love  he  told. 

His  lute,  to  notes  of  joy  once  strung, 

Became  a  cold,  neglected  thing, 

And  the  dark,  crawling  spider  hung 

Her  web-work  on  each  rusted  string — 

He  heard  delightedly  no  more 

Her  footstep  on  the  marble  floor; 

But  think  not  that  he  grew  remiss 

In  formal  homage  due  her  rank, 

Though  his  crushed  soul  rich  draught  of  bliss 

No  longer  in  her  presence  drank ; 

'*. 


34  YONNONDIO. 

Thenceforth  her  dark  and  lustrous  eye 
Could  not  dissolve  his  apathy — 
Thenceforth  her  voice,  harp-like  and  clear, 
Its  sweetness  wasted  on  his  ear — 
To  him  she  was  a  prize  withdrawn, 
No  more  to  rouse  to  high  endeavor — 
A  morning  star  of  beauty  gone 
From  Love's  delicious  sky  forever. 

XXVIII. 

Fresh  in  remembrance  is  the  day, 
When,  clad  in  glittering  garb,  De  Grai, 
A  young  and  reckless  cavalier, 
Came  from  the  camp,  invited  guest, 
Within  your  ancient  hall  to  rest, 

And  share  its  hospitable  cheer. 
His  figure  was  of  perfect  mould, 
And  with  the  nobler  wealth  of  mind, 
Uncounted  heaps  of  yellow  gold, 
And  broad,  rich  acres  were  combined. 
In  his  gay  look,  observer  caught 
No  outward  sign  of  guilty  thought, 
Although  the  callous  soul  within 
Was  foul  with  darkest  deeds  of  sin — 
His  winning  courtesy  of  air, 
And  eloquence,  were  suited  well 
The  heart  of  woman  to  ensnare, 
And  kindle  perilously  there 


THE   CAMP.  35 

The  flame  of  love  unquenchable ; 

His  ancestors  held  feudal  sway 

When  France  was  in  her  younger  day, 

And  last  was  he  of  his  proud  line ; 

•For  on  the  hoof-beat  battle  plain 

His  sire,  a  bosom  friend  of  thine, 

While  rushing  to  the  charge,  was  slain. 

Though  young,  with  many  a  trusting  maid, 

The  part  of  traitor  he  had  played, 

And  deeply  taught  in  arts  to  lure 

From  paths  of  innocence  the  PURE, 

The  wretch,  insensible  to  shame, 

Could  well  the  hollow  promise  frame ; 

While  his  poor  victim  could  not  brook 

To  harbor  blighting  thought,  the  while, 

That  his  sincerity  of  look 

Masked  ruin,  perjury  and  guile, 

Your  daughter  was  a  gem  too  bright 

To  flash  untarnished  in  his  sight ; 

A  flower  too  innocent  in  dye 

To  lift  its  blushing  charms  on  high, 

Unnoted  by  his  dooming  eye. 

'Oh,  spare  me  the  recital  dread 

'  Of  \vhat  ensued  !'  the  Baron  said  ; — 

'  Oh,  better  had  she  kept  aloof 

From  the  foul  fiend  beneath  my  roof, 

Or  like  some  bird  by  serpent  charmed, 

That  breaks  the  dreadful  spell  ere  harmed, 


36  YONNONDIO. 

In  time  to  shun  disgrace  have  fled 

From  the  dark  mesh  the  monster  spread ; 

But,  ah,  an  unsuspecting  heart 

By  craft  is  easily  enchained, 

And  soon  his  deep  seductive  art 

The  pearl  of  her  affections  gained ! 

At  first  I  saw  in  young  De  Grai 

A  daughter's  honorable  choice, 
And  heard,  with  doubting  and  dismay, 

The  whisper  of  a  friendly  voice. 

XXIX. 

Rejoined  the  priest,  in  husky  tone, 
Whiter  his  cheek  than  pale  tomb-stone — 
"  Mordaunt  that  horrid  warning  spoke, 
And  tumult  in  your  bosom  woke  ; 
Then  eager  Blanche  Le  Troye  to  save 
From  doom  more  dreadful  than  the  grave, 
You  drove  the  recreant  from  your  door, 
And  with  a  look  that  menaced  strife, 
Forbade  him  cross  its  threshold  more, 
On  peril  of  his  limb  and  life ; 
But  could  not  make  the  doomed  one  think 
That  he  had  plotted  her  undoing, 
And  that  she  stood  upon  the  brink 
Of  shameful,  everlasting  ruin  : 
Thrice  blest  are  they  who  only  shed 
Tears  for  the  unpolluted  dead — 


THE    CAMP.  37 

Who  mark  the  rounded  mould  above 

The  children  of  their  hope  and  love, 

In  contrast  with  that  wretched  sire 

Whose  sorrow  is  consuming  fire, 

Who  mourns  an  erring  daughter  driven 

From  bliss  on  earth,  from  home  in  heaven ! 

One  night,  tempestuous  and  wild, 

In  secret  fled  your  hapless  child, 

And  when  the  morrow  came,  you  heard 

From  fond  lip  fall  no  greeting  word  : 

Her  form  was  missing  in  the  hall, 

Her  palfrey  absent  from  the  stall— 

A  glove  upon  the  marble  stair 

Had  fallen  from  her  fingers  fair, 

And  near  the  castle  gate  were  found 

Fresh  hoof-marks  on  the  sandy  ground, 

Disclosing  palpably  to  sight 

That  Blanche  was  not  alone  in  flight. 

XXX. 

Alarum  notes  from  turret  bell 
Were  wafted  over  lawn  and  dell, 
And  bold  dependents  of  the  soil, 
Well  trained  to  arm  for  sudden  fray, 
Threw  by  their  implements  of  toil, 
That  martial  summons  to  obey. 
Still  like  a  trumpet  in  mine  ear, 

D 


38  YONNONDIO. 

Your  cry  of  eager  haste  I  hear — 
"  Outspeed  the  beagle  on  the  track, 
"  And  dead,  or  living,  bring  her  back  ! 
"  But  leave  behind  a  mangled  corse, 
"  The  partner  of  her  crime — to  horse  f" 
Then  loud  the  clash  of  armor  rang, 
And  horsemen  on  their  coursers  sprang, 
And  in  pursuit,  with  dangling  rein, 
Swept  like  a  blast  across  the  plain. 
Up  hills  precipitous  and  steep, 
And  over  rivers  dark  and  deep, 
Through  sombre  wood  and  winding  dell, 
Plied  were  the  scourge  and  rowel  well. 

XXXI. 

In  vain  for  many  leagues  they  sped, 

The  fugitives  were  far  ahead; 

And  long  ere  night  the  troop  came  home, 

Faint  and  exhausted  from  the  chase, 

On  jaded  chargers,  white  with  foam, 

And  lagging  in  their  pace  ; 

But  that  poor  youth  did  not  return 

Who  bravely  led  them  forth  at  morn  ; 

For  written  was  his  vow  on  high 

To  save  an  erring  maid,  or  die. 

On,  on  he  urged  his  noble  brute 

When  followers  gave  o'er  pursuit : 

Night,  hunger  and  a  pathway  dim 


THE    CAMP.  39 

Were  no  impediments  to  him — 
His  heart  was  proof  to  peril  dire ; 
What  recked  he  of  the  set  of  sun  ? 
From  Lust  to  glad  a  frantic  sire, 

An  angel  must  be  won ; 

And  nerved  by  thoughts  like  these,  his  steed 
With  spur  he  pushed  to  headlong  speed. 
Weeks  flew,  and  in  her  lonely  cot 
A  mother's  heart  grew  sick  and  sore  ; 
In  vain  she  mourned  her  bitter  lot — 
Mordaunt,  the  valiant,  came  no  more  ; 
But  haply,  ere  his  fall  was  known, 
Hushed  was  her  broken-hearted  moan. 
"  If  aught  of  him  you  know,  relate  ! 
"Long  have  I  sought  to  learn  his  fate" — 
Quoth  old  Le  Troye  in  anxious  tone. 

XXXII. 

_ 

A  few  months  after,  I  became 
A  convert  to  Loyola's  creed, 
And  tired  like  him  of  phantom  fame, 
Kissed  crucifix  and  counted  bead, 
The  duties  of  my  holy  sphere 
My  steps  conducted  far  and  near. 
One  day,  (the  sun  was  nearly  set,) 
A  peasant  in  Lorraine  I  met: 
Clouds,  black  with  storm,  were  in  the  sky — 
No  cheering  hostelry  was  nigh, 

- 


40  YONNONDIO. 

And  fain,  belated  on  rny  way, 

Was  I  beneath  his  roof  to  stay ; 

For  with  a  troubled  look  he  told 

Of  traveller  shot  down  for  gold, 

Of  Danger  lurking  on  the  road, 

And  midnight  murderer  abroad. 

"  Not  long  ago,"  cried  he,  "my  dream 

"  Was  broken  by  a  dismal  scream, 

"  Preceded  by  a  pistol  shot ; 

"  And  darting  wildly  from  my  cot, 

"  I  heard,  while  flesh  grew  chill  with  fright, 

"  The  clattering  of  hoofs  in  flight. 

"  Next  morn,  upon  the  beaten  ground, 

'•  A  stranger  cold  in  death  I  found — 

"  The  ball,  with  fatal  aiming  sped, 

"  Had  made  deep  lodgment  in  his  head — 

"  And  his  dark  locks,  all  stiff  with  gore, 

"  The  passing  wind  could  lift  no  more. 

"  His  brow  was  frowning,  and  a  brand 

"  Clung  to  the  unrelaxing  hand, 

"  While  reckless  all  of  rider  slain, 

"  A  steed  grazed  near  with  broken  rein, 

"  Black  as  the  midnight's  darkest  dyes, 

"  Save  a  white  star  between  his  eyes, 

"  Who,  when  we  strove  to  catch  him,  ran 

"  As  if  he  spurned  the  rule  of  man. 


THE  CAMP.  41 


XXXIII. 

"  Without  exhorting  priest  or  pall, 

"  We  gave  the  stranger  burial ; 

"  And  on  the  spot  where  he  is  laid 

"  A  waving  elm  throws  pleasant  shade. 

"  His  hat,  pierced  by  the  fatal  ball, 

"  And  vestments,  hang  on  yonder  wall, 

"  And  from  his  rigid  neck  and  cold, 

"  I  took  this  costly  chain  of  gold" 

Before  he  told  the  story  out, 

My  brain  was  free  from  darkening  doubt ; 

For,  added  to  the  chain  and  garb, 

His  faithful  picture  of  the  barb, 

Mordaunt's  unhappy  exit  left, 

Of  dread  uncertainty  bereft, 

XXXTV. 

His  relics  from  their  bloody  shroud 
For  retribution  called  aloud, 
And  thinking  of  the  friendly  band 
That  erst  our  hearts  in  love  allied, 
Asunder  by  a  ruthless  hand 
Divided  at  untimely  tide, 
I  tasked  my  energies  to  trace 

The  reeking  author  of  the  crime, 
Like  bloodhound  to  his  lurking  place ; 


42  YONNONDIO. 

And  Havre  sought,  but  not  in  time, 
A  bark  to  view  in  full  career, 
Bound  to  another  hemisphere, 
From  kindred,  home  and  country  bear 
De  Grai  and  his  companion  fair. 


XXXV. 


Across  a  broad  expanse  of  sea 
The  coward  murderer  may  flee, 
And  finding  covert,  dark  and  rude, 
May  baffled  justice  long  elude. 
Aye !  even  trust  that  lapse  of  days 
Will  dim  remembrance  of  his  guilt ; 
That  man  again  will  kindly  gaze, 
Forgetful  of  the  blood  he  spilt ; 
But  soon  or  late,  the  gory  deed 
Will  awful  punishment  succeed ; 
The  dark  assassin  of  Mordaunt 
Feels  safe  within  his  greenwood  haunt, 
And  little  deems  the  coming  day 
Will  guide  avengers  on  their  way. 
The  cheering  thought  sustains  his  soul, 
A  thousand  leagues  of  water  roll 

Between  me  and  the  slain ; 
And  that  old  father,  gray  with  years, 
Who  mourns  a  daughter  lost,  while  tears 

Bedew  his  cheek  like  rain, 
Poor  self-beguiler !  o'er  his  head 


THE  CAMP.  43 

The  sable  wing  of  Death  is  spread, 
And  Vengeance,  with  his  dooming  eye, 
And  sharp,  unsparing  blade,  is  nigh — 
Soon,  soon  from  the  gloom  of  its  scabbard  to  dart 
And  drink  the  last  drop  of  his  recreant  heart ! 

XXXVI. 

'* 

Enough  of  prating! —  on  the  hill, 
The  tall  old  evergreens  are  still, 
And  the  south  wind  no  longer  weaves 
Gay  roundelay  amid  the  leaves, 
Or  flies  the  dreaming  wave  to  curl, 
By  moonlight  changed  to  liquid  pearl — 
No  rustling  whisper,  from  the  reeds 
That  fringe  yon  marshy  bay,  proceeds, 
And  in  primeval  groves  around 
There  is  a  transient  death  of  sound. 
The  howling  beast  of  prey  hath  made 
His  meal  of  carnage  in  the  shade, 
And  sought  long  since  his  dark  retreat, 
Crackling  the  brush  beneath  his  feet. 
I,  too,  must  find  a  rugged  bed, 
For  the  mid  hour  of  night  hath  fled — 
Throughout  my  frame  I  slowly  feel 
A|drowsy,  numbing  torpor  steal, 
And  as  we  march  by  morning  light, 
Our  limbs  require  repose — GOOD  NIGHT  ! 

END    OP    CANTO    FIRST. 


YONNONDIO. 


CANTO    SECOND. 

THE  COTTAGE. 

If  hallowed  by  Love's  presence  bright,  a  home 
Far  in  the  wild  is  more  to  be  desired 

Than  gorgeous  chambers  of  a  royal  dome, 
Where  restless  hearts,  by  envy  ever  fired, 

Throb  in  proud  breast,  where  joyance  hath  expired ; 

Mine  be  the  hut,  if  there  Affection  dwells, 

Though  meanly  be  its  occupants  attired ; 

For  the  blind  Deity  hath  wondrous  spells 
That  fill  with  golden  light  Earth's  worst  receptacles. 


The  rosy  pencillings  of  Dawn 
On  a  pleasant  sky  were  clearly  drawn, 
And  changed  the  clouds  of)  the  Orient  grew 
From  dull  gray  tint  to  a  golden  hue. 
The  distant  top  of  the  wooded  height 
Was  edged  with  a  rim  of  tender  light, 


I 

46  YONNONDIO. 

And  thicket,  fountain,  rock  and  tree 

From  cloudless  sun  a  radiance  drank, 

While  washed  the  rapid  Genesee, 

With  reddened  wave,  the  crumbling  bank. 

The  clasping  vine  on  the  river  shore, 

Twined  round  the  ponderous  sycamore ; 

And  near,  in  strange  confusion  piled, 

Lay  fallen  giants  of  the  wild, 

Decaying  marks  of  ages  flown, 

By  the  fierce  tornado  overblown ; 

On  the  grassy  brink  thick  willows  grew, 

And  gloom  on  the  passing  current  threw, 

While  pensile  boughs  hung  down  to  lave 

Their  pale  green  leaves  in  the  gurgling  wave; 

On  the  long  unbroken  ridge  above, 

The  walnut,  oak  and  maple  spread 

Their  knotted,  barky  arms,  and  wove 

A  dark  pavilion  overhead  : 

Beyond,  encircled  by  the  grove, 

A  glade  lay  basking  in  the  light, 

Like  an  emerald  gem  in  the  locks  of  night, 

And  the  fresh  and  unpolluted  earth 

To  flowers  of  an  hundred  hues  gave  birth. 

Such  haunt  the  dreaming  bards  of  old 

Chose  for  the  fay  his  court  to  hold, 

From  din  of  crowded  mart  afar, 

When  the  moon  was  in  her  diamond  car ; 

And  a  being  of  celestial  mien 


THE  COTTAGE.  47 

Was  moving  on  its  carpet  green, 
Bright  as  the  Fabled  Fairy -queen  : — 
But  her  cheek  with  sorrowing  was  pale, 
Nor  could  the  breath  of  morning  dry, 
Or  the  vivid  beam  of  day  exhale 
The  tear-drop  in  her  dark  blue  eye. 

n. 

A  zone  of  brilliant  damask  graced 
Her  delicate  and  rounded  waist, 
Confining,  in  its  clasping  fold, 
Her  bodice  by  a  brooch  of  gold. 
The  comb  amid  her  auburn  curls 
Was  beautiful  with  studding  pearls, 
And  the  costly  texture  of  her  dress 
Was  passing  strange  in  a  wilderness. 
The  proud  bird  of  the  cliff  had  shed, 
To  grace  the  bonnet  on  her  head, 

The  richest  plumage  of  its  wings ; 
And,  magnet  of  admiring  eyes, 
She  would  have  borne  the  dazzling  prize 
Of  beauty,  in  the  hall  of  kings. 

in. 

Contrasting  with  her  paler  charms, 
White  neck,  fair  cheek  and  snowy  arms, 
An  Indian  maiden  by  her  side 
Moved  with  an  air  of  native  pride, 


48  YONNONDIO. 

Clad  in  rich  robe  of  otter-hide. 

Her  features  were  of  swarthy  dye, 

But  darker  was  her  tameless  eye, 

And  wavy  tresses,  thick  and  black, 

Hung  unrestrained  adown  her  back, 

The  fawn  had  yielded  up  its  skin 

To  form  her  velvet  moccasin  ; 

The  bird  of  fire  and  noisy  jay, 

To  fringe  her  dress,  their  feathers  gay  ; 

And  her  cheek  was  bright  with  lively  stains, 

Redder  than  blood  in  her  branching  veins. 

Large  beads  were  pendant  from  her  ear, 

Strung  on  the  pliant  thew  of  deer ; 

And  on  her  bosom  brightly  shone 

An  amulet  of  mystic  stone— — 

The  gift  of  venerated  seer, 

To  guard  her  form  in  the  darkest  hour, 

From  spirits  fraught  with  evil  power, 

Who  ride  on  the  pinions  of  the  breeze 

To  breed  the  tempest,  blight  the  flower, 

And  taint  frail  mortals  with  disease. 

IV. 

"  Cease,  daughter  of  the  Rising  Sun  ! 
Lamenting  for  thy  little  one  ! 
The  Land  of  fadeless  verdure  now 
Is  gladdened  by  his  sunny  brow ; 
Beyond  the  gulph  of  death,  he  smiles, 


THE   COTTAGE.  49 

"  Inhabitant  of  Happy  Isles ; 

"  But,  vanishing  like  April  snow, 

"A  few  more  years  will  come  and  go, 

"And  mother  and  her  babe  again 

"  Will  meet  where  ties  break  not  in  twain." 

While  in  her  glance  soft  pity  shone, 

Thus  in  wild,  sweet,  condoling  tone, 

The  maid  of  deep  black  eye  and  hair 

Addrest  the  lady,  sad  and  fair, 

Who  answered — "  Yester-eve  the  spot 

"  Grim  wood- wolves  had  molested  not, 

"  But  dread  the  change  since  y ester-eve — 

"  Can  I  do  otherwise  than  grieve1?" 

Then,  to  another  Continent, 

In  thought  the  pale,  young  mourner  went, 

Till  rose,  before  her  mental  sight, 

Home's  ancient  hall,  and  landscape  bright; 

While  strains,  consorting  with  her  wo, 

Gushed  from  her  lips  in  warbling  low. 

v* 

SONG. 
1. 

There  is  a  lordly  castle 

A  vine-clad  hill  that  crowns ; 
All  darkly  its  stern  battlement 

Upon  the  valley  frowns ! 

E 


50  YONNONDIO. 

And  from  its  ancient  window, 
My  father,  old  and  gray, 

Perchance,  in  grief  and  loneliness, 
Is  looking  forth  to-day. 


In  vain  close  watch  he  keepeth ; 

For  on  her  native  shore, 
The  foot  of  one  he  loveth 

Will  lightly  tread  no  more. 
The  cup  that  he  is  drinking, 

Is  drugged  with  shame  and  tears ; 
And  who  will  cheer  the  winter 

Of  his  declining  years  ? 

3. 

The  grave  hath  won  my  mother, 

In  strife  my  brothers  fell, 
And  when  the  old  man  dieth, 

No  child  will  ring  his  knell. 
Oh,  would  that  I  had  never 

Heard  Love's  beguiling  lay, 
And  fled  with  kirn  in  darkness 

'  Who  stole  my  heart  away/ 

4. 

There  is  a  lordly  castle 

That  stands  beyond  the  sea; 


THE  COTTAGE.  51 

And  in  the  dreams  of  midnight 

Its  towers  appear  to  me  : 
The  cold  and  lonely  chambers 

Seem  peopled  by  the  dead, 
And  there  my  father  boweth 

In  grief  his  aged  head. 

VI. 

Why  wandered,  in  so  wild  a  place, 
Descendant  of  a  Christian  race, 
From  home  of  childhood,  far  away, 
Beyond  the  deep,  and  its  tossing  spray  1 
Ask  Love,  wild  lord,  to  whose  control 
Woman  resigns  her  trusting  soul ; 
Who  tempts  her,  by  his  wizard-spell, 
Against  a  parent  to  rebel, 
And  hall  of  princely  pomp  exchange 
Within  a  land  of  bloom  and  sun, 
For  wilderness,  remote  and  strange, 
Protected  by  her  chosen  one, 
And  in  its  trackless  bosom  share 
His  cup  of  comfort  or  despair. 

VII. 

On  the  dark  borders  of  the  wood 
A  lodge  of  rude  construction  stood, 
And,  upward  from  its  hearth,  the  smoke 
Rose,  in  blue  wreaths,  above  the  oak. 


YONNONDIO. 

The  wild  hop  to  its  hanging  eaves 

Clung  with  its  prickly  wealth  of  leaves  ; 

And  poles,  set  firmly  in  the  ground, 

With  upright  forks  before  the  door, 

The  weight  of  unhewn  rafters  bore ; 

And  honey-suckles  twined  around 

The  sylvan  framework,  rough  and  low, 

Forming  a  verdant  portico. 

Rare,  blooming  shrubs  of  forest  land, 

Transplanted  by  a  tasteful  hand, 

On  the  smooth  lawn  in  front  were  growing, 

Profusely  round  an  odor  throwing. 

The  waving  sumach,  pride  of  bowers, 

And  dogwood,  white  with  snowy  flowers — 

Witch-hazle,  spruce  and  sassafras 

Flung  shadows  on  the  velvet  grass. 

A  welling  fount  of  water  clear 

In  rocky  basin  bubbled  near, 

And  air  was  vocal  with  the  notes 

Of  rustling  leaves  and  warbling  throats. 

The  partridge  beat  his  drum,  and  quail 

Rose  in  dense  conveys  from  the  swale ; 

And,  adding  romance  to  the  scene, 

The  shambling  elk  shrill  whistle  gave, 

While  breaking  through  the  thicket  green 

To  plunge  his  muzzle  in  the  wave. 

The  squirrel,  from  his  snug  retreat, 

Came  chattering  on  nimble  feet ; 


THE  COTTAGE.  53 

In  quest  of  sweets,  the  house-wife  bee 
Left  her  populous  home  in  the  hollow  tree, 
And  morn  of  summer  never  smiled 
On  brighter  Eden  in  the  wild. 

VIII. 

J9< 
The  lady,  sorrowful  and  pale, 

Attended  by  the  forest  maid, 
Followed  a  narrow,  beaten  trail, 

Till  reached  the  cot  embowered  in  shade. 
Its  creaking  door  was  open  thrown, 
When  her  foot  drew  near  the  threshold-stone ; 
And  forth  a  gallant  hunter  came, 
Accoutred  for  the  chase  of  game. 
The  pride  of  birth  was  in  his  bearing ; 
His  look  denoted  noble  daring, 
And  workmanship  of  foreign  land 
Was  the  long  carbine  in  his  hand. 
A  gay,  green  mantle,  fringed  with  pelt, 
Was  lightly  round  his  person  flung, 
And,  from  an  ornamented  belt, 
His  silver-mounted  dagger  hung ; 
His  lip,  sharp-cut  and  well-defined, 
Betokened  a  decisive  mind ; 
He  bore,  in  haughty  manhood's  flower, 
Bold  heart  in  hate  or  friendship  warm, 
And  elements  of  grace  and  power 
Commingled  in  his  stately  form. 
E2 


54  YONNONDIO. 

Browned  by  pursuits  of  war  and  chase 

Were  the  lower  features  of  his  face  ; 

But  closely  curled,  his  dark  brown  hair 

Lay  shadowing  a  forehead  fair. 

His  full,  gray  eye  that  mildly  gleamed, 

The  brow's  expression  stern  redeemed ; 

Yet  something  told  that  wakened  ire, 

From  its  dark  depths,  would  call  up  fire. 

His  mellow  voice,  not  over-loud, 

Accorded  with  a  form  so  proud, 

While?  questioned  he  his  beauteous  bride, 

In  tone  to  deep  concern  allied — 

"  The  cause  of  thy  despondence  tell ! 

Hath  aught  our  favorite  befell, 

My  peerless  Blanche  V     "  Alas  !  we  found 

The  gift  of  Can-ne-hoot,  the  Chief," 

Responded  she  in  tones  of  grief, 

"  By  wild-wolf  mangled  on  the  ground. 

To  lifeless  limb  and  silken  throat, 

Clung  dark  red  drops  of  clotted  gore  ; 

My  nimble  fawn  of  dappled  coat, 

Will  glad  its  mistress'  gaze  no  more, 

Or  fly,  on  silver  hoof  of  speed, 

From  her  caressing  hand  to  feed." 

' '  Hah  !  the  wan  color  of  those  cheeks 

A  deeper  source  of  wo  bespeaks, 

Than  loss  of  fondling  in  the  shade, 

By  forest  prowler  victim  made  -T 


THE    COTTAGE.  55 

Why  closely  to  thy  bosom  press 
That  blossom  of  the  wilderness  ?" 

IX. 

"  This  flower,"  replied  his  weeping  spouse, 
"  Now  dying-  on  my  bosom,  grew 

Beneath  those  melancholy  boughs, 
More  gloomy  than  sepulchral  yew, 

That  bar  the  daylight  out,  and  wave 

Their  leaves  above  our  infant's  grave. 

Some  fierce,  disturbing  beast  of  prey 

Hath  partly  torn  the  mound  away ; 

The  piping  storm  hath  overthrown 

The  mossy,  rude  memorial-stone ; 

And  the  brown,  desecrating  mole 

In  the  loose  soil  hath  dug  his  hole  ; 

While  near,  the  terror-waking  snake 

Darts,  coils  and  rattles  in  the  brake. 

I  saw  no  pleasant  sunlight  fall 

On  the  cold  sod  of  burial, 

And  wept,  as  if  my  heart  would  break, 

While  strove  kind  Wun-nut-liay  *  in  vain, 

To  smooth  the  broken  sod  again, 

And  ranged  the  wild  for  flowers  to  spread, 

In  dewy  wreaths,  above  the  dead ; 

For  well  we  know,  though  dark  her  skin, 

A  generous  soul  abides  within/' 

*The  Beautiful. 


56  YONNONDIO. 


X. 


The  hunter  spoke  not  in  reply, 

But  on  his  wVe  gazed  tenderly ; 

And  memories  came  back,  unsealing 

The  bitter  fount  of  mournful  feeling, 

While  sob  and  trembling  lip  confessed 

The  father  waking  in  his  breast. 

He  thought  of  vaults  across  the  brine, 

That  held  the  dead  of  his  lofty  line — 

Of  hiding  palls  of  gorgeous  fold, 

And  coffins  rich  in  plated  gold ; 

Then  sighed  to  think  his  only  child 

Lay  sepulchred  in  noteless  mould, 

Dim  with  the  shadows  6f  the  wild, 

And  printed  by  the  paw  of  beast 

In  quest  of  his  grim,  revolting  feast. 

He  tried,  but  bootless  was  the  task, 

Drear  Sorrow's  outward  sign  to  mask ; 

For  his  manly  heart  within  him  melt, 

Though  armed  with  enduring  strength,  he  felt. 

He  turned,  at  length,  to  find  relief, 

In  woodland  sports,  from  haunting  grief, 

When  warning  hand,  by  the  Indian  maid, 

Was  lightly  on  his  shoulder  laid, 

While  a  warrior  from  the  wood  emerged, 

On  by  some  pressing  errand  urged, 


THE  COTTAGE.  57 

Who  traced  with  swift,  but  noiseless  tread, 
A  trail  to  his  cottage-home  that  led. 

XI. 

"On-yit-ha*  comes!"  the  maiden  said; 
"  I  know  him  by  his  bounding  tread, 
And  figure  like  the  cedar  proud 

That  springs  upon  the  mountain-head — 
His  face,  more  dark  than  midnight-cloud 
When  the  Great  Spirit  speaks  aloud — 

His  toughened  battle-bow, 
And  arrows  bound  by  fearful  tether, 
The  skin  of  rattle-snake  together, 

Are  signs  of  war  and  woe  !" 

XII. 

"  How  fares  my  brother  VJ  said  De  Grai, 
When  nearer  the  young  chieftain  drew  ; 
"  Why,  armed  and  belted  for  the  fray, 
Comes  he  with  brow  of  sable  hue  1" 
Response  the  warrior  of  the  shade, 
With  startling  emphasis,  thus  made  : 
"  White  robbers  from  beyond  the  sea, 
And  tribesmen  of  Algonquin-stock, 
Thick  as  the  long  grass  on  the  lea, 
And  eager  for  the  battle-shock, 
Have  boldly  landed  on  our  soil ; 
But  vain  will  prove  their  dreams  of  spoil ! 

*  Seneca  for  Night-Hawk. 


58  YONNONDIO. 

Fierce,  lurking  messengers  of  wrath, 
Dark,  deadly  serpents  in  their  path, 

'Mid  leaves  and  brush  will  coil." 
Lured  by  the  chase  from  home  away, 
My  sire  and  I  paced  yesterday 

Blue  Ca-da-rac-qui's  strand, 
And  saw  the  foe  in  big  canoes, 
Near  the  dim  hour  of  falling  dews, 

In  fearful  numbers  land. 
Homeward  I  hurried  with  the  news, 
And  soon  will  wake  the  battle-yell  ; 
For  borne  hath  been  the  signal-word, 
By  our  fleetest  runner,  to  tribes  that  dwell 

Where  the  roar  of  the  Upper  Falls  is  heard. 
All  the  fighting  men  of  remote  Gardow, 

And  braves  from  Ton-ne-wan-da's  stream, 
Round  the  council-fire  are  gathering  now, 

While  scalp-locks  wave,  and  weapons  gleam ; 
And  thither,  if  the  red  man's  friend, 
Will  On-yit-ha's  adopted  brother  wend. 

The  mighty  War-God  of  my  race 
Calls  on  his  children  the  danger  to  face, 
For  thus  to  old  seers  spoke  his  terrible  voice — 
"  Expecting  grim  banquet,  the  ravens  rejoice  ; 
Up,  up  with  the  hatchet,  long  rusting  in  clay, 
And  wash,  in  red  waters,  the  rust-stain  away  !" 


THE    COTTAGE.  59 

XIII. 

The  lady  heard  the  tidings  dread, 

With  hand  upon  her  forehead  prest, 

As  if  to  lull  its  throb  to  rest  ; 

Then,  in  despairing  accent,  said — 

"  Has  Earth  no  place  of  bloom  and  light, 

Where  Peace  may  spread  her  wing  of  white  'I 

No  pleasant  isle,  amid  the  sea, 

Where  mortal  finds  not  misery  1 

I  nursed  a  pleasant  dream  that  here 

Our  lives  away  would  gently  glide, 
Like  summer  currents,  calm  and  clear, 
That  meet  no  rocks  in  their  career, 

While  mingling  in  one  peaceful  tide- 
That  virgin-charms,  unknown  to  France, 
In  this  New  World  would  woo  the  glance  : 
But  vainly  have  we  reared  yon  cot, 
Environed  by  the  mossy  wild ; 
For  sorrow,  in  thy  greenest  spot, 
Oh  Earth,  attends  a  thankless  child  ! 
The  little  prattler,  on  whose  face 
A  husband's  image  I  could  trace, 
W^as  early  torn  from  my  embrace  ! 
And  now  the  men  of  blood  are  nigh, 
With  battle-smoke  to  hide  the  sky, 
And  drive  us  from  our  forest-home, 
Like  animals  of  chase  to  roam. 


60  YONNONDIO. 

Ah  !  since  that  dark  and  stormy  night 

Of  hurried  and  clandestine  flight, 

When  filial  duty  tried  in  vain 

Lost  sway  from  tyrant  Love  to  gain — 

And,  reckless  of  the  dreadful  ire, 

And  curse  of  imprecating  sire, 

I  scourged  my  palfrey,  fleet  as  wind, 

And  left  ancestral  towers  behind, 

No  sunbeams  on  my  path  have  shone — 

My  heart — my  heart  no  quiet  known  ! 

Though  deep  my  guilt,  and  dark  my  lot, 

Thy  bride,  De  Grai,  rebukes  thee  not  ; 

For  on  the  suitor  for  his  child, 

A  father  fondly  gazed,  and  smiled, 

Till  the  black  falsehood  of  my  page 

Changed  his  encouragement  to  rage. 

I  loved  thee  then,  and  love  thee  still, 

Bright  object  of  my  girlish  dream  ! 

For  herbless  waste,  or  land  of  ill, 

Would  Eden,  thou  beside  me,  seem." 

XIV. 

In  tone  of  cheerfulness  replied 
The  hunter  to  his  weeping  bride — 
"  Let  shadows  from  thy  troubled  heart, 
Like  mist  before  the  morn  depart ; 
And  trust  in  Him  who  reigns  above, 
Though  now  the  sky  is  overcast, 


THE   COTTAGE.  61 

For  green,  unfading  home  of  love, 
And  days  of  sunny  calm  at  last. 
Though  soon  will  wake  to  fearful  life 
The  rushing  hurricane  of  strife, 
And  bathe  in  blood  the  sinless  flowers 
That  bloom  in  these  primeval  bowers, 
Mine  arm,  while  weapon  it  can  wield, 
Will  buckler  prove  to  thee,  and  shield ; 
And  angels,  if  I  fall,  will  bear 
To  Providence  my  dying  prayer, 
And  He  will  guard  his  stricken  child 
Amid  the  perils  of  the  wild. 

xv. 

"  Thanks,  dearest,  for  thy  words  of  cheer ! 
TKey  fill  with  melody  mine  ear ; 
And,  hushing  stormy  doubt  to  rest, 
Give  birth  to  hope  within  my  breast. 
Oh  God  !  forgive  a  thing  of  dust, 
Who,  in  a  dark,  desponding  hour, 
In  Thee  forgot  to  place  her  trust, 
Unmindful  of  thy  saving  power. 
Though  black  the  welkin  overhead, 
Thine  eye  the  light  of  joy  can  shed  ; 
Though  whelming  surges  round  me  roll, 
Thy  whisper  can  becalm  my  soul, 
And  change  the  thunders  of  the  sea 
To  low  and  lute-like  melody." 


62  YONNONDIO. 

XTI. 

On  the  blue  sky,  with  face  upraised, 
One  moment  brief,  the  lady  gazed ; 
No  cloud  was  on  her  forehead  fair, 
Fled  were  the  shadows  of  despair, 
And  her  bland  countenance,  the  while, 
Was  lighted  by  a  holy  smile  ; 
As  if  she  read  of  sin  effaced, 
In  bright,  celestial  letters  traced, 
And  heard,  though  darkly-born  of  earth, 
The  melody  of  golden  lyres, 
While  creatures  of  immortal  birth 
Woke  sweetly  the  transporting  wires. 
On-yit-ha,  though  untamed  and  rude, 
On  the  fair  daughter  of  old  France, 
In  hushed  and  graceful  attitude, 
Fixed  his  admiring  glance  ; 
And  Wun-nut-hay,  his  forest-dove, 
Gazed  on  her  with  a  look  of  love, 
While  the  proud  husband,  to  her  side 
Advancing  with  a  rapid  stride, 
His  arm  affectionately  threw 
Around  her  neck  of  snowy  hue. 

XVII. 

"  Betake  thee  to  thy  favorite  spot, 
Yon  vine-hung  arbor  near  the  cot, 
Where,  guarded  from  the  summer  heat, 


THE  COTTAGE.  63 

Is  rudely  framed  a  rustic  seat, 
And  the  wild  cherry-tree  in  bloom 
Gives  out  a  delicate  perfume  : 
There,  blithely  in  the  cooling  shade, 
A  garland  for  thy  temples  braid, 
Or  watch  the  hum -bird  while  around 
The  rose  he  wheels  with  buzzing  sound, 
Or  list  while  gentle  Wun-nut-hay 
Narrates  some  legend,  strange  and  old, 
To  speed  the  weary  hours  away, 
Of  gifted  seer  and  sachem  bold. 
Hence  to  the  council-fire  I  go, 
Where,  planning  ruin  for  the  foe, 

Old  Can-ne-hoot  and  chiefs  convene  ; 
My  homeward  whistle  will  be  heard, 
Ere  twilight  warns  the  roving  bird 
To  mossy  perch  in  forest  green. 
Why  look  around  with  timorous  eye, 
As  if  the  day  of  doom  was  nigh, 

The  fierce  invader  close  at  hand  1 
Between  him  and  our  cabin  lie 

Full  many  roods  of  forest-land : 
And  ere  his  banner  courts  the  gale 
That  oversweeps  this  beauteous  vale, 
And  the  wood-warblers  flee  afar, 
Scared  by  the  thunder-tones  of  war, 
I  will  provide  a  still  retreat, 
And  thither,  Blanche,  conduct  thy  feet. 


64  YONNONDIO. 

XVIII. 

In  haste  the  hunter  breathed  adieu  ; 
Then,  guided  by  On-yit-ha,  cross'd 
The  level  glade,  and  passing  through 
The  archway  of  the  grove,  to  view 

In  leafy  gloom  was  lost. 
The  forester  his  path  pursued, 
With  look  cast  down  in  musing  mood  : — 
He  paused  not  when  his  careless  tread 
Awoke  the  glittering  copper-head  ; 
Nor  did  his  deadly  carbine  ring 
When  bounded  by  the  bleating  doe, 
And  the  wild  crane,  on  heavy  wing, 
Rose  from  still  pond,  in  dingle  low. 
Unnoted  by  his  glance,  the  bear 
Went  growling  to  his  distant  lair  : 
Dark  thoughts,  a  melancholy  train, 
And  sting  of  self-reproach,  we  fain 
Once  felt,  would  never  feel  again, 
Within  his  heart's  most  deep  recess 
Unsealed  the  spring  of  bitterness. 

XIX. 

"Alone  the  blame  fall  on  my  head!" 
Communing  with  himself  he  said  ; 
"  I  lured  her  from  a  sunny  clime, 
Brig-ht  with  the  wrecks  of  olden  time, 


THE   COTTAGE.  65 

The  luxuries  of  titled  Pride, 

And  vineyards  on  each  green  hill-side; 

Attendants  waiting  on  her  word, 

Clad  in  the  livery  of  their  lord ; 

Her  favorite  bower,  and  castled  dome, 

Amid  the  cultured  fields  of  Gaul, 

With  me  across  the  sea  to  roam, 

And  told  her  that  a  forest-home 

Was  brighter  than  a  father's  hall — 

That  fruits  would  blush  on  every  tree, 

And  air  be  fraught  with  melody — 

That  life  would  prove  one  summer-morn 

Fragrant  with  blossoms  newly-born, 

While  Heaven  would  weave  for  us  a  charm 

To  banish  ill  and  ward  off  harm. 

Alas  !  the  love  of  womankind, 

How  deep,  how  lasting,  but  how  blind  ! 

She  laughed  with  joy,  believing  true 

The  portraiture  of  bliss  I  drew, 

Foreseeing  not  a  father  wear 

For  her  the  crimson  blush  of  shame  ; 
Affliction  whitening  his  hair, 

And  scandal  busy  with  her  name 

xx. 

Thus  communed  with  himself  De  Grai, 
Proceeding  on  his  woodland-way, 
Until  a  loud,  long,  fearful  cry 

F2 


66  YONNONDIO. 

Awoke  him  from  his  revery  ; 

And  searchingly  he  fixed  his  glance 

On  the  red  warrior  in  advance, 

Who  stood,  like  form  of  sculptor  rare, 

With  face  directed  toward  the  river, 
And  scalp-lock  fluttering  in  the  air, 

And  shaft  drawn  partly  from  the  quiver. 
Again  that  startling  cry  was  heard, 
Harsh  as  the  croak  of  carrion-bird, 
When  prey,  long  watched,  expires  at  last, 
Alluring  to  a  red  repast ; 
And  far  more  dismal  than  the  scream 
Of  the  fierce  panther  in  the  night ; 
When  the  bold  hunter,  from  his  dream 
Amid  the  leaves,  his  sylvan  bed, 
Wakes  with  a  shudder  of  affright, 
And  scans  the  broad  boughs  overhead, 
Expecting  momently  to  feel 
The  mangling  tush,  and  claw  of  steel. 

XXI. 

'  Pale  brother,  haste  !'  On-yit-ha  said, 
And  grasped  convulsively  his  bow, — 
"  Our  runner,  with  impatient  tread, 
Brings  tidings  of  the  ruthless  foe  : 
Haste !  for  the  soil  beneath  our  feet, 
Ere  morrow  ends,  may  blush  with  gore, 
And  bosoms  that  now  warmly  beat, 


THE  COTTAGE.  67 

Pierced  by  the  victor,  throb  no  more  ; 

That  shout,  still  ringing  in  the  dell, 

Announces  wo — I  know  it  well !" 

De  Grai  pursued  his  tawny  guide 

With  fleeter  foot  and  longer  stride ; 

The  swamp  they  threaded,  and  around 

Impenetrable  thickets  wound, 

Whose  solemn  depths  of  twilight-gloom 

Day  could  not  enter,  and  illume  ; 

Nor  paused  the  savage  scene  to  view, 

WTiile  the  dread  warning  louder  grew  : 

Then  crossing  streams,  obscure  with  shade, 

Haunts  by  the  lonely  heron  made, 

And  where  the  wood-duck  reared  her  brood 

In  deep,  unbroken  solitude, 

Reached  a  broad  opening  in  the  wood. 

XXII. 

Fair  was  the  scene  ! — before  the  gaze 
Lay  verdant  fields  of  twinkling  maize, 

Bared  to  the  full,  bright  blaze  of  day ; 
And  meads,  to  charm  romantic  eye, 
Whereon  the  grass  was  thick  and  high, 

Spread  their  green  carpets  far  away. 
Oft  had  the  youthful  Chevalier 
Paused,  in  pursuit  of  antlered  deer, 

That  fairy  landscape  to  behold, 
Charmed  by  the  painted  tribe  of  flowers, 


68  YONNONDIO. 

Frail  offspring  of  June's  laughing  showers, 

And  Nature's  richest  mould  : 
But  heeding  not  its  beauties  now, 
He  hurried  on  with  heated  brow, 
And  sent,  though  on  enchanted  ground, 
No  glance  of  admiration  round. 
Tall  orchards,  near  the  river-shore, 
The  germs  of  bright  abundance  bore; 
And,  farther  on,  in  clusters  dark, 
Stood  many  cone-like  huts  that  sent, 
From  open  roofs  of  cedarn  bark, 
Blue  smoke-wreaths  toward  the  firmament. 
Though  in  the  school  of  Vauban  trained, 
De  Grai  had  often  wielded  lance, 
And  his  fierce  charger  sternly  reigned 
On  the  red  battle-field  for  France, 
The  scene  before  him  in  his  soul 
Roused  a  deep  dread  that  mocked  control. 

XXIII. 

A  rugged  structure,  low  and  long, 
Was  circled  by  a  savage  throng, 

Armed,  decked  and  painted  for  the  fight ; 
While  sachem,  seer  and  chiefs  of  fame, 
To  light  the  fire  of  council,  came 

With  brows  more  dark  than  night. 
A  thousand  scalp-locks,  trimmed  with  care, 
Streamed  like  wild  coursers'  manes  in  air, 


THE  COTTAGE.  69 

When,  riderless,  they  turn  to  fly : 
Dark,  glowing  eyes  destruction  breathed, 
And  the  long  dagger  was  unsheathed, 

The  hatchet  whirled  on  high  : 
The  chich-hi-kon,  full  loudly  blown, 
Gave  out  lugubrious  monotone, 
And  drum  of  hollow  block  of  oak 
And  o'erdrawn  hide  of  wild-deer  jnade, 
Rung  to  the  war-club's  measured  stroke, 
While  the  deep  booming  music  woke 

The  sleeping  echoes  of  the  shade. 

XXIV. 

The  weak  and  tottering  old  man, 

Whose  arm  was  shrunken  with  decay, 

Roused  by  the  tocsin  of  his  clan, 

Grasped  the  dread  implement  of  fray ; 

And  sternly  moved  amid  the  crowd, 

Forgetful  that  his  form  was  bowed, 

And  that  his  palsied  limbs  would  fail, 

And  falter  on  the  battle-trail. 

XXV. 

The  nimble  stripling,  who  had  thrown 
The  tomahawk  in  sport  alone — 
From  the  light  echo  of  whose  tread 
The  timid  mink  would  scarce  have  fled — 
Who  hitherto,  on  his  young  cheek, 


70  YONNONDIO. 

Had  never  worn  war's  clouded  streak, 
Whose  puny  shaft  had  only  drawn 
The  blood  of  bird  or  bounding  fawn, 
Fired  by  the  common  danger,  round 
His  slender  waist  the  war-belt  bound, 
And,  proudly  for  the  conflict  plumed, 
The  bearing  of  the  brave  assumed. 

XXVI. 

Old  spoils  of  victory,  that  long 

Had  hung  upon  the  wigwam  wall, 
Forth  by  the  tribe  were  brought  with  song, 

Ancestral  glory  to  recall, 
And  kindle  in  the  son  desire 
To  rival  in  renown  his  sire. 
Scalps  from  the  fallen  rudely  torn, 

In  smoke  cured  artfully,  and  dried, 
By  wrinkled  hags  about  were  borne 

With  gestures  of  ferocious  pride. 
From  some,  on  crimson  hoop  extended, 
The  grisly  hair  of  age  depended, 
And  thick,  coarse  locks,  unblanched  by  time, 
Of  manhood  butchered  ere  his  prime  : 
From  others,  in  soft  clusters,  hung 
The  silken  ringlets  of  the  young, 
And  the  long  tress  of  golden  grain 
That  told  of  Christian  mother  slain. 
De  G-rai  a  look  of  horror  cast 


THE   COTTAGE. 

On  these  sad  records  of  the  past, 
And  felt  a  sense  of  terror  tame 
The  beating  pulses  of  his  frame — 
An  icy  chill,  one  instant,  stay 
Life's  crimson  current  on  its  way. 

XXVII. 

Dark  arms  were  menacingly  raised, 
While  on  the  hideous  spoil  he  gazed : — 
Though  Can-ne-hoot  in  peace  had  met 

The  stranger  from  his  country  driven — 
Had  smoked  with  him  the  calumet, 

And  food  and  habitation  given, 
His  garb  and  face  revealed  him  one 
Whose  race  were  from  the  Rising  Sun — 
A  subject  of  the  "  Grand  Monarque" 
Whose  disciplined  and  banded  braves 
Were  piercing  forests,  deep  and  dark, 

To  awe  their  nation  into  slaves — 
Then  quench  in  blood  their  cabin-fires, 
And  trample  on  the  green  old  graves 

Of  patriarchal  sires. 


XXVIII. 


Amid  that  raging  crew  alone, 

111  would  the  son  of  France  have  fared ; 
For  daggers,  wrought  of  flint  and  bone, 

With-  fell  intent  were  round  him  bared, 


72  YONNONDIO. 

And  knives,  that  Christian  blood  had  shed, 
Described  bright  circles  round  his  head  : 
But  the  fierce  natives  of  the  wood, 
Though  madly  thirsting  for  his  blood, 

From  murderous  assault  forebore, 
Restrained  by  their  young  Sagamore, 
Who  forced,  through  groups  of  warriors  tall, 
A  passage  to  the  Council-Hall. 

END    OF    CANTO    SECOND. 


YONNONDIO. 


CANTO    THIRD. 

THE  WAR  DANCE. 

Wake,  children  of  Genundewah !  the  cry 
Of  fierce  Invasion  floats  upon  the  gale  ; 
The  spirits  of  the  dead  are  rushing  by, 

And  white-haired  seers  are  prophesying  bale : 
The  Dove  of  Peace  hath  left  our  lovely  vale — 
Great  Yonnondio  leads  the  host  of  France, 
And  in  the  coming  battle  will  prevail, 
If  we  neglect  to  sharpen  knife  and  lance, 
And  round  the  red  post  wheel,  in  war's  terrific  dance. 

Swear  that  the  foe's  insulting  foot  shall  not 
On  one  green  grave  in  triumph  be  impressed ; 
For  ever  dear  to  brave  men  is  the  spot 

Where  the  white  bones  of  their  forefathers  rest, 
The  Land  of  Shadows,  in  the  clear  south-west, 
Hath  hunting  grounds  known  only  to  the  just, 


74  YONNONDIO. 

And  the  red  warrior  of  the  dauntless  breast : 
Snatch,  then,  the  buried  tomahawk  from  dust, 
And  clothe  its  blade,  once  more,  in  battle's  gory  crust. 

i. 

De  Grai,  in  Christian  Court,  had  seen 
Anointed  Louis  on  his  throne, 
Clad  in  appareling  whose  sheen 
The  lustre  of  the  stars  outshone, 
While  the  bold  Barons  of  the  land, 
Below  him  stood,  a  knightly  band, 
With  churchmen  proud  the  crosier  bearing, 
And  dark,  monastic  vesture  wearing, 
And  less  of  awe,  while  liegemen  knelt 
In  presence  of  their  monarch,  felt, 
Than  by  old  Can-ne-hoot,  attired 
In  shaggy  toga,  was  inspired, 
While,  proudly  as  became  a  king, 

Presiding  in  monarchal  state, 
His  glance  surveyed  the  tawny  ring 
Of  counsellors  that  round  him  sate. 

n. 

Stern  Time,  in  robbing  form  and  face 
Of  youthful  symmetry  and  grace, 
Could  not  subdue  his  pride,  or  dim 
The  hawk-like  fierceness  of  his  gaze  j 
And  brawny  chest  and  iron  limb 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  75 

Unwasted  were  by  length  of  days  : 
His  lofty  forehead  was  a  page 
Rough  with  the  wrinkling  lines  of  age  ; 
His  port  majestical  and  proud, 
His  form  commanding  and  unbowed, 
Like  some  old  oak,  in  ancient  moss, 
And  rough,  indented  rind  encased, 
From  whose  gray  trunk  the  vernal  gloss 
Had  many  a  lustrum  been  effaced ; 
Still  lifting  loftily  his  head, 
Without  one  bough  decayed  or  dead, 
Though  many  a  howling  storm  had  tried 
In  dust  to  hurl  his  honors  down — 
Asunder  rend  his  arms  of  pride, 
And  scatter  to  the  winds  his  crown. 

m. 

"  The  bear-skin  for  Od-deen-yo*  spread," 
With  courteous  mien  the  sachem  said — 
"  Though  scion  of  a  race  I  scorn, 
And  far  beyond  the  Salt-Lake  born ; 
Though  pale  his  face,  like  dogwood-flowers, 
And  garb  and  language  unlike  ours, 
Fill  with  ke-nic-kee-nic  the  bowl ! 
He  is  a  Seneca  in  soul, 
For  sundering  the  filial  band 
That  bound  him  to  his  native  land, 

*  White  Chief. 


76  YONNONDIO. 

Here,  where  the  herding  red-deer  roam, 
With  one  fair  flower  he  makes  his  home, 
De  Grai  the  seat  assigned  him  took, 
With  hesitating  step  and  look; 
Far  murmurs  ran  the  circle  round, 

And  many  a  warrior  gaunt  and  grim, 
His  teeth,  in  half-hushed  anger,  ground, 

And  scowled  with  fiendish  hate  on  him. 
Some,  from  long  pipes  of  purple  stain 
Significant  of  battle,  smoked ; 
And  plumes  that  decked  each  stem  of  cane 
Torn  from  the  wild  swan,  owl  and  crane, 

In  slaughter  had  been  soaked ; 
And  others  from  their  girdles  drew 
Pipe-tomahawks  of  sanguine  hue, 

Adorned  with  shell  and  wampum-bead; 
And  fragrant  clouds  rose  blue  and  wreathed, 
While  through  the  hollow  haft  they  breathed 

The  vapors  of  the  weed. 

IV. 

On  bosoms  bare  the  figures  rude 
Of  wolf  and  eagle  were  tattoo 'd  ; 
And  never  knight  of  high  descent 
At  joust  or  glittering  tournament, 
Or  on  the  trampled  battle-field, 

While  blood  was  emptied  out  like  wine 
Bore,  on  bright  bannaret  and  shield, 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  77 

The  badge  and  motto  of  his  line, 
More  proudly  than  each  savage  man 
The  wild  escutcheon  of  his  clan. 

v. 

Linked  with  armorial  signs  that  blaze 
On  knightly  armor  of  old  days, 
Are  tales  of  high  achievement  done, 
Great  cities  stormed,  and  conflicts  won : 
Hence  scion  of  a  line  renowned 
Feels  eye  dilate  and  pulses  bound, 
When  he  beholds,  with  burning  glance, 
His  father's  ancient  cognizance  : 
The  red  man  boasts  no  herald-roil, 
But  views,  with  equal  pride  of  soul, 
The  painted  symbol  on  his  skin 
Allied  to  memory  of  sires, 
Famed  for  their  prowess,  while  within 

His  bosom  wakes  heroic  fires. 
Like  them  he  pants  for  stirring  deeds; 
In  the  swift  chase  the  moose  outspeeds  ; 
Directs  with  skill  his  birchen  bark, 
Though  wave  be  loud  and  heaven  be  dark ; 
And  scorns  to  fly,  though  round  him  rise 
A  myriad  of  enemies  : 
He  swears,  like  them,  no  fear  to  know 
When  stake-bound  by  exulting  foe, 
And  though  around  his  tortured  frame 


78  YONNONDIO. 

In  crimson  volume  rolls  the  flame, 
And  his  flesh  shrivels  like  the  grass 
When  death-fires  o'er  the  prairie  pass, 
He  breathes  in  that  dread  moment  out, 
With  taunting  tone,  his  battle-shout ; 
Recounts,  while  glorying  in  pain, 
The  numbers  he  has  scalped  and  slain, 
And  chaunts,  with  faint,  expiring  breath, 
His  stern,  defying  song  of  death. 

VI. 

Old  Can-ne-hoot  arose  at  last, 
And  back  his  shaggy  mantle  cast — 
In  the  red  girdle,  round  his  waist, 
His  fur  tobacco-pouch  replaced — 
On  the  grim  throng  a  moment  gazed ; 
Then,  while  his  tinkling  bracelets  rung, 
His  arm  with  grace  unstudied  raised, 
And  spoke  thus  in  his  woodland-tongue. 

VII. 

"  Victors  in  many  a  forest  fight, 
The  bird  of  peace  has  taken  flight ! 
The  tree  in  which  she  framed  her  nest, 
Smoothed  the  bright  feathers  on  her  breast, 
And  tuned  her  throat  to  notes  so  clear 
That  the  keen  hunter  paused  to  hear, 
Is  robbed  of  its  majestic  bough, 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  79 

Is  shorn  of  its  broad,  leafy  shield, 
And  from  its  trunk,  dishonored  now, 
Profaning  hands  the  bark  have  peeled, 
And  given  to  the  naked  wood 
The  deep,  terrific  stain  of  blood. 
Oft,  brothers,  have  the  paths  of  war 
From  home  and  country  led  us  far — 
The  Twig-twee  in  his  distant  wild 
Our  vow  of  vengeance  heard  and  smiled; 
But  vainly  was  his  good  bow  strung, 
While  on  the  wind  our  war-cry  rung — 
As  well  might  osier  frail  essay, 
The  whirlwind  on  its  march  to  stay, 
As  tribe,  who  quaffs  Miami's  wave, 
Abide  fierce  onslaught  of  the  brave. 
Our  hatchet  smote  him  on  the  head ; 
Wild  wolves  upon  his  flesh  have  fed ; 
Red,  crackling  flames  devoured  his  cot ; 
Pappoose  and  squaw,  we  spared  them  not. 

VIII. 

"Our  muffled  tread  at  midnight  deep, 
The  Huron  heard  not  in  his  sleep — 
Still  as  the  dew  by  evening  wept, 
We  stole  upon  him  while  he  slept ; 
The  knife,  in  darkness,  pierced  his  side, 
The  gore  upon  his  scalp  is  dried. 
The  prowling  Eries  of  the  Lake 
Our  chain  of  friendship  dared  to  break ; 


80  YONNONDIO. 

The  waters  moan  upon  the  shore, 
Their  feet  will  print  its  sands  no  more. 
As  flame  consumes  the  yellow  leaves, 
When  the  sad  wind  of  autumn  grieves, 
Their  warriors  perished  in  the  fire 
Of  our  wild,  unrelenting  ire — 
We  took  no  captives,  and  their  race 
Among  the  tribes,  have  now  no  place  : 
Well  was  the  work  of  ruin  done  ! 
Their  bones  bleach  in  the  rain  and  sun  ; 
Hushed  are  the  chase-grounds  where  they  ranged; 
To  ashes  cold  their  huts  are  changed ; 
Their  bows  are  broken,  and  the  deer, 
Unscared  by  shaft,  is  browsing  near. 

IX. 

"  Regardless^ of  our  ancient  fame, 

Our  conquests,  and  our  dreaded  name, 

Fierce  Yonnondio  and  his  band 

Are  thronging  in  our  forest-land. 

And  ask  ye  why  with  banner  spread 

His  force  the  Frank  hath  hither  led  1 

We  scorched  with  fire  the  skulking  hounds 

Who  dared  to  cross  our  hunting-grounds, 

A  trading,  base,  dishonest  band, 

Who,  in  exchange  for  pelts,  had  given 

Guns,  lead  and  black  explosive  sand, 

To  tribes  our  power  had  westward  driven  : 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  81 

The  wise  no  vain  distinction  know 
Between  sly  fox  who  arms  a  foe, 
And  hands  that  boldly  deal  the  blow. 

x. 

"  Shall  warriors  who  have  tamed  the  pride 
Of  rival  nations,  far  and  wide, 

At  their  own  hearths  be  thus  defied  ? 
Shall  it  be  said  the  beast  of  prey 
His  den  abandoned  far  away, 
And,  seeking  out  the  hunter,  found 
His  aim  less  true,  less  deep  the  wound  1 
Shall  it  be  told  in  other  days, 
The  tomahawk  we  feared  to  raise, 
While  the  green  hillocks,  where  repose 
The  cherished  dust  of  woodland-kings, 
Insulted  by  the  march  of  foes, 

Gave  back  indignant  echoings  1 
Base  is  the  bosom  that  will  quake 
With  one  degrading  throb  of  fear, 
When  fame  and  country  are  at  stake, 
Though  an  armed  troop  of  fiends  are  near ! 
Oh !  never  can  such  craven  tread 
The  happy  chase-grounds  of  the  dead  ; 
Between  him  and  that  fount  of  bliss 
Will  yawn  a  deep  and  dread  abyss ; 
And  doomed  will  be  his  troubled  ghost 
To  range  that  land  forever  more, 


YONNONDIO. 

Upon  whose  lone  and  barren  coast 

The  black  and  bitter  waters  roar. 

The  clime  of  everlasting  day, 

Where  groves,  all  red  with  fruitage,  wave, 

And  beauty  never  fades  away, 

Is  only  trodden  by  the  brave." 


XI. 


In  answer  to  the  bold  harangue, 

Each  warrior  from  his  bear-skin  sprang, 

And,  ominous  of  coming  strife, 

Clashed  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife. 

A  signal  by  the  chief  was  made 

To  close  the  Council,  and  obeyed : 

His  eloquence  of  look  and  word 

Dark  depths  of  every  heart  had  stirred ; 

And  'twas  no  time  in  dull  debate 

For  other  tongues  of  war  to  prate, 

Warned  by  the  loud  foreboding  cry 

Of  his  fleet  scout  that  foes  were  nigh. 

With  joy  in  his  stern  mien,  he  scann'd 

The  waving  scalp-locks  of  his  band ; 

Heard,  with  pleased  ear,  their  vengeful  vows, 

And  marked  with  pride  their  frowning  brows. 

In  single  file  he  then  arrayed 

His  quivered  brethren  of  the  shade, 

And  a  slow  dance,  with  measured  tread, 

Around  the  painted  war-post  led  : 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  83 

Well  timing  to  the  fall  of  feet, 
The  hollow-sounding  drum  was  beat ; 
Maize-kernels  in  dry  gourd-shell  swayed, 
By  hand  of  crone,  dull  rattling  made, 
And  wildly  rose  the  chaunted  notes 
Of  battle  from  a  thousand  throats. 

XII. 

< 
WAR  SONG  OF  THE  ON-GUI-HON-WL 

1. 

Red  sons  of  the  forest !  leave  woman  and  hearth  ; 
Too  long  have  our  tomahawks  slumbered  in  earth  ; 
Array 'd  in  the  garb  that  your  ancestors  wore, 
With  arrows  of  death  fill  the  quiver  once  more. 

2. 

Our  seer  has  beheld,  in  the  visions  of  night, 
The  chieftains  of  yore,  and  they  whisper  of  fight ; 
The  song  of  the  raven  is  sad  in  the  wood, 
Haste  !  gorge,  on  the  morrow,  her  younglings  with 
blood. 

3- 

That  man  of  our  tribe  who  flees  basely  away, 
When  dirge  for  brave  men  is  the  clash  of  the  fray, 
Thenceforth,  in  the  garb  of  a  squaw,  shall  be  drest 
With  our  totem  erased  by  the  knife  from  his  breast. 


84  YONNONDIO. 


4. 

Untrodden  no  more,  let  the  wild-herbage  grow 
In  yon  leaf-shaded  trial  that  conducts  to  the  foe ; 
But  plain  be  the  path  by  our  war-parties  worn, 
While  scalps,  on  red  poles,  by  the  bravest  are  borne. 

5. 

On-gui-hon-wi ! — unite  in  one  legion  of  dread, 
Like  the  turbulent  river  by  mountain  streams  fed  ; 
Then  rushing,  all  painted  and  plumed  for  the  fray, 
Sweep  the  host  of  invasion,  like  drift-wood,  away. 

XIII. 

« 
Like  cougar,  mad  with  taste  of  blood, 

A  warrior  darted  from  the  throng, 
While  the  dim  arches  of  the  wood 

Rang  with  their  gathering  song — 
High  overhead  his  hatchet  raised, 
While  lightning  from  his  eye-ball  blazed, 
Then  buried  in  the  solid  oak 
Its  glittering  blade  with  rending  stroke. 
Changed  was  the  dance  from  measure  slow 
To  frantic  leap  and  deafening  yell, 
And  on  imaginary  foe 
An  hundred  weapons  fell, 
'Till,  hacked  and  splintered  to  the  ground, 
In  fragments  lay  the  post  around. 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  85 

XIV. 

Wild  and  more  wild  the  tumult  grew, 
Amid  the  crazed,  demoniac  crew ; 
Knives  flashed,  as  man  to  man  opposed ; 
Dark  forms  in  mimic  combat  closed ; 
Upwhirled  in  clouds  the  summer  dust ; 
Quick  blows  were  aimed,  and  furious  thrust ; 
With  face  convulsed  the  fallen  gasped, 
And  murd'rous  hands  the  scalp-lock  grasped  ; 
Some  from  the  swathing-board  cut  loose, 
With  seeming  hate,  the  swart  pappoose, 
Then  raised  it,  struggling,  by  the  heel, 
And  pointed  at  its  throat  the  steel ; 
While  others,  on  the  trampled  ground, 
Limbs  of  the  frantic  mother  bound, 
And  her  shrill  cry  with  laughter  drowned. 
Feigned  was  base  flight  and  bold  advance  ; 
Poised  was  the  long,  bone-headed  lance  ; 
Stout  arms  the  heavy  war-club  swayed ; 
Elastic  bows  sharp  twanging  made  ; 
And  mocked,  with  modulated  tone, 
Was  victor-shout  and  dying  groan. 

xv. 

A  quavering  whistle  of  the  chief 
Hushed  suddenly  the  combat  brief; 
Succeeding  to  the  sounds  of  fray, 


4 

86  YONNONDIO. 

Heard  were  the  wind  and  leaves  at  play  ; 

Like  graven  figures  of  repose, 

Stood  friends  and  counterfeited  foes, 

Nor  murmur  breathed,  or  member  stirred, 

Awaiting  but  the  signal-word. 

Like  stillness  broods  o'er  grove  and  plain, 

When  by  hath  rolled  the  hurricane ; 

Or  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep, 

When  bark  hath  found  an  ocean-sleep, 

And  shrieks,  heard  lately  'mid  the  roar 

Of  minute-guns,  go  up  no  more. 

XVI. 

• 
Pleased  was  De  Grai  to  mark  the  power 

Of  Can-ne-hoot  in  that  dread  hour; 
The  spell  by  which  a  breath  subdued 
The  red  man,  in  his  wrathful  mood, 
And  deference  to  rank,  displayed 
By  those  grim  warriors  of  the  shade, 
In  prompt  compliance,  tamed  and  still, 
To  one  whose  law  was  kingly  will. 
At  length  the  sachem  waved  his  hand, 
And  suddenly  dispersed  the  band. 
Repairing  to  his  lodge,  each  brave 
Fresh  coat  of  paint  his  visage  gave, 
In  the  grim  process  trying  well 
His  genius  for  the  terrible ; 
Inspected,  with  a  careful  glance, 


THE    WAR   DANCE.  87 

Bow,  arrows,  knife  and  tapering  lance- 
Precaution  that  tried  veteran  takes, 
Ere  noiseless  march  on  foe  he  makes. 

xvn. 

Approaching,  grave  of  look,  the  place 

Where  stood  De  Grai  with  thoughtful  face, 

Him  thus  old  Can-ne-hoot  addrest : 

"  My  totem  gleams  upon  your  breast, 

But  countrymen  of  thine  are  foes, 

Who  soon  will  hear  our  twanging  bows  : 

Between  these  plains  and  their  array, 

Will  lie  an  unobstructed  way 

That  my  adopted  son  may  tread, 

Without  hair  injured  on  his  head." 

"  Thanks,  father,  thanks  ! — I  duly  prize 

Thy  noble  offer ;  but  these  eyes 

May  never^  I  devoutly  pray, 

See  sunlight  of  another  day, 

When  comes  the  hour  that  we  are  found 

Antagonists  on  conflict-ground! 

I  deem  that  wild  ambition's  lust 

Impels  great  Yonnondio  on, 

To  wage  with  thee  a  war  unjust, 

And  never  shall  my  sword  be  drawn, 

Save  on  the  side  of  truth  and  right ; — 

As  neutral  I  will  shun  the  fight." 


88  YONNONDIO. 

XVIII. 

"  Enough  ! — ere  shriek  of  death  is  heard, 

Find  refuge  for  thy  singing  bird ; 

Then,  far  from  battle's  crushing  stroke, 

Sit  on  the  mat  of  peace,  and  smoke  : 

In  yon  thick-walled  and  guarded  hold, 

Will  crowd  the  helpless  and  the  old, 

And  thither  thy  beloved  one  bear, 

Ere  fall  of  night's  embrowning  shades." 

In  view  arose  a  gloomy  square, 

Hedged  round  with  massy  palisades, 

By  fallen  trees,  on  every  side, 

Of  ponderous  trunk,  well  fortified, 

Through  which,  though  numerous  and  fierce, 

Unscathed  no  charging  band  could  pierce, 

If  missiles  by  the  sheltered  foe 

Were  boldly  launched  from  gun  and  bow. 

XIX. 

"  How  can  Od-deen-yo  e'er  repay 

His  generous  father  ?" — cried  De  Grai ; 

Ahungered  and  on  weary  feet 

Came  the  pale  wanderer  and  his  spouse ; 

You  gave  him  venison  to  eat, 

A  cabin  and  a  pleasant  seat 

Beneath  the  woodland  boughs. 

"  Talk  not  of  recompense," — replied 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  89 

The  chief  in  tones  of  wounded  pride  : 
"  Scorned  ever  be  that  tribesman's  name, 

Unworthy  of  heroic  sires, 
Who  basely  would  requital  claim, 
If  pinched  with  want  and  weak  of  frame, 

Sworn  foeman  food  requires  ; 
Or  roof  above  a  hearth-stone  warm, 
To  guard  him  from  the  pelting  storm. 
Who  ever  sought  in  peace  my  hut, 
And  found  its  door  unkindly  shut  ? 
Who  ever,  languishing  in  pain, 
Asked  Can-ne-hoot  for  help  in  vain  ? 
The  wealth  of  that  enchanted  Isle 

Chased  vainly  on  the  waters  blue, 
Though  bending  to  his  oar,  the  while, 

The  hunter  speeds  his  bark  canoe, 
If  piled  before  me  in  return 
For  friendly  office,  I  would  spurn  /" 

xx. 

De  G-rai  rejoined  not ; — loud  and  high 
Rose  yell  that  ended  colloquy  j 
Fixed,  piercing  glance  the  sachem  turned 
On  point  whence  came  that  signal-call, 
And  lo  !  his  trusty  scout  discerned, 
Staggering  toward  the  Council-Hall ! 
Dishevelled  was  his  plumy  crest ; 
An  arrow  quivered  in  his  breast  \ 
u2 


90  YONNONDIO. 

Deeply-ensanguined  was  his  skin 
From  naked  waist  to  moccasin, 
And  feebly  was  his  form  upborne 
By  limbs  relaxing,  bruised  and  torn. 
While  reeling  through  the  wondering  crowd, 
Gleamed  his  wild  eye  with  triumph  proud ; 
For,  baffling  hounds,  the  worried  bear, 
Though  sorely  galled,  had  reached  his  lair. 
With  hand  in  his  own  life-blood  drenched, 
The  chivalrous  scalp-lock  he  clenched, 
Denoting,  by  that  gesture  fierce, 
That  vainly  did  the  arrow  pierce, 
Long  as  that  martial  lock  of  hair 
Streamed  like  a  flag  in  troubled  air, 
Preserved,  mid  danger,  flight  and  strife, 
From  mangling  edge  of  hostile  knife. 

XXI. 

"  What  news  1 — and  why  like  hunted  deer, 
Though  strong  of  arm  and  fleet  of  foot, 
Pierced  by  the  barb,  comes  Yuk-wi*  here  V1 
In  calm,  deep  tone  asked  Can-ne-hoot. 
"  A  bow-shot  from  the  Hon-e-oye, 
Armed  and  impatient  to  destroy, 
Out-lying  Hurons  raised  the  yell : 
Wounded,  the  fleetest  of  their  race 
I  distanced  in  a  weary  chase, 

*  The  Bear. 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  91 

Through  thicket,  brake  and  fell. 
An  hundred  rods  or  more  beyond 
The  outlet  of  Au-tau-gua  Pond, 
Where,  by  dark  stream,  the  trail  is  cross'd, 
Glimpse  of  the  skulking  knaves  I  lost. 
When  air  the  swift  bald  eagle  cleaves, 
Lean,  cawing  crows  behind  he  leaves — 
Round  my  remains  the  wolfish  crew 
Will  never  raise  the  death-halloo, 
For  thanks  to  Ou-we-nee-you  still 

My  scalp  is" 

He  could  speak  no  more, 
But  trembled  with  a  wintry  chill, 
And  from  his  throat  in  crimson  rill 

Gushed  forth  the  strangling  gore  : 
He  groped  about,  as  if  dun  night 
Had  suddenly  excluded  light ; 
For  weapon  in  his  beaded  belt 
Instinctively  the  fingers  felt, 
As  if  the  warrior  wished  to  try, 
With  rending  death,  the  mastery ; 
Then,  gasping,  fell  upon  the  sod, 
A  reddened  corse — a  lifeless  clod. 

XXII. 

Sped  from  the  throng,  to  wail  his  fate, 
His  young,  untimely-widowed  mate  ; 
Tore  her  long  hair  of  raven  gloss, 


92  YONNONDIO. 

At  thought  of  her  distracting  loss ; 
Then  flung  herself  upon  the  dead, 
With  piercing  shriek  and  arms  outspread. 
Nor  moved,  nor  saddened,  nor  amazed, 
Upon  that  scene  the  sachem  gazed : 
Deep  calm  upon  his  brow  reposed, 
Commanding  will  emotion  curbed, 
And  not  one  outward  sign  disclosed 
That  inly  was  the  soul  disturbed. 
De  Grai  the  luckless  scout  had  heard, 
With  heart  by  drear  foreboding  stirred, 
For  near  his  cot,  embowered  in  green, 
Last  was  the  prowling  Huron  seen. 
Unmindful  of  deportment  grave, 
That  well  becomes  an  Indian  brave, 
Though  babes  and  women  load  the  gale 
With  the  wild  notes  of  wo  and  wail, 
On-yit-ha  stood  with  flashing  eye, 
And  muttered  in  an  angry  voice, 
Assured  that  danger  hovered  nigh 
The  dusky  maiden  of  his  choice : 
Then,  holding  with  his  sire  discourse, 
Besought  him  quickly  to  detail 
A  score  of  bowmen  from  his  force  ; 
Northward  to  scour  the  river-vale, 
Then  safely  to  the  fortress  guide 
Od-deen-yo's  fair,  endangered  bride. 
Permission  prompt  the  sachem  gave  ; 


THE  WAR  DANCE.  93 

And,  guarded  by  an  escort  brave, 
Led  by  the  Night-Hawk  of  his  clan, 
De  Grai,  through  swamp  and  bosky  dell, 
Pursued  a  path  that  parallel 
With  the  dark  river  ran. 

XXIII. 

While  on,  the  scouting  party  fared, 

Old  Can-ne-hoot  for  march  prepared, 

With  the  main  body  of  his  braves, 

To  guard  his  nation's  hallowed  graves. 

"  Loved  grove,  in  which  our  dead  are  laid, — 

Where  droop  long  boughs  their  beds  to  shade, 

Will  be  our  place  of  ambuscade  ; 

And  those  degenerate  hounds 
May  Ut-co  bear  to  realms  of  night, 
Who  will  not  like  their  fathers  fight 
For  home  and  hunting-lands  in  sight 

Of  those  green,  mossy  mounds  !" 
Thus  speaking,  by  a  low,  shrill  whoop, 
The  chief  in  single  file  his  troop 

Formed,  eager  for  the  fray  : 
A  swamp,  of  depth  unsunn'd  and  dread, 
In  rear  of  his  rude  castle  spread ; 
And  thither  the  red  monarch  led, 
With  rapid,  light  and  stag-like  tread, 

His  picturesque  array. 

END  OP  CANTO  THIRD. 


YONNONDIO. 


CANTO    FOURTH. 


THE   BOWER. 

Danger's  black  cloud  comes  rolling  from  the  north, 

And  gleams  of  lightning  round  its  edges  play  ; 
But  tameless  sons  of  Liberty  go  forth, 

In  thicket  seldom  visited  by  day, 
To  meet  the  vaunting  spoilers  on  their  way  : 
Back,  Yonnondio ! — ere  your  knightly  crest 
Is  shorn  of  half  its  glory  in  the  fray  :  [wrest 

The   lords,  from  whom  your  monarch  fain  would 

With  iron  hand  a  realm,  are  Romans  of  the  West. 

ft 


Their  march  no  glad  spectator  cheered  ; 
No  helmet  shone,  no  war-horse  reared, 
Nor  martial  instrument  was  heard, 
Nor  banner  by  the  breeze  was  stirred  : 


96  YONNONDIO. 

Their  feet  so  lightly  touched  the  ground 
That  not  an  echo  woke  to  sound ; 
And,  glittering  not  with  vain  display, 
They  moved  like  shadows  on  their  way, 
Or  misty  shapes  that  fleetly  glide 
When  winds  disturb  the  mountain-side. 
Sad  non-combatants,  left  behind, 
Gazed  while  a  trace  could  be  defined 
Of  that  long  line  of  warriors  grim, 
Erect  of  port,  and  lithe  of  limb ; 
And  when  they  vanished  through 
The  dusky  portals  of  the  wood, 
In  groups  the  young  and  helpless  stood 
Some  form  beloved  to  view. 

n. 

The  devious  way  on  which  they  marched, 
By  braided  boughs  was  overarched ; 
And,  right  and  left,  spread  far  away 
Fens,  only  lit  by  fire-fly's  ray, 
Dark  with  a  tangled  growth  of  vine, 
Black  ash,  huge  water-oak  and  pine, 
Mixed  with  red  cedar,  mossed  and  old, 
Set  firmly  in  the  watery  mould. 
Here,  covered  with  a  slime  of  green, 
Stagnant  and  turbid  pools  were  seen 
Edged  round  with  wild,  aquatic  weeds, 
Long-bladed  flag  and  clustering  reeds, 


THE  BOWER.  97 

Pond-lilies,  oily-leaved  and  pale, 

Red  willow  and  the  alder  frail : 

There,  skeletons  of  groves  gone  by, 

Sad  objects  to  poetic  eye  ! 

Like  monarchs  by  the  battle-blast 

Assailed  and  overthrown  at  last, 

Wasted  and  torn  in  bough  and  stem, 

And  robbed  of  leaf-wrought  diadem, 

Lay  rotting  in  their  barky  mail, 

Indifferent  to  sun  and  gale. 

Deep  hollows  in  the  miry  clay, 

Marked  where  their  roots  once  spread  away, 

Now  mixed  with  many  a  rugged  mound 

Formed  when  their  fastenings  were  unbound, 

Or  wrenched,  like  gossamer,  in  twain, 

By  the  wild,  rushing  hurricane. 

in. 

A  stranger,  though  in  woodcraft  taught, 

Would  find  that  skill  availed  him  nought 

In  that  dark  thicket,  if  astray 

By  hunted  quarry  lured  away, 

Though  well  each  haunt  and  covert  lone 

To  the  brown  forest-child  was  known. 

Extending  to  its  far-off  bound, 

A  war-path,  through  the  centre,  wound, 

So  blind  that  practiced  eye  in  vain, 

For  mark  to  guide  the  foot,  would  strain. 


98  YONNONDIO. 

Now,  all  impression  of  the  route, 
In  gurgling  runnel,  was  washed  out : 
Anon,  where  deeper  grew  the  shade 
By  intertwisted  branches  made, 
Its  crooked,  winding  course  from  sight 
Was  curtained  by  primeval  night. 

IV. 

When  the  dark  chieftain  and  his  band, 
Emerging  from  the  swampy  land, 
Reached  the  dim  borders  of  the  grove 
That  glooms  around  the  "  Haunted  Cove," 
The  tempered  glow  of  weary  day, 
Proclaiming  t]ie  approach  of  night, 
To  gold  transmuted  leaf  and  spray 
On  upland-swell  and  wooded  height ; 
And,  calmly  in  the  western  sky, 
Resplendent  emblems  of  repose ! 
Grouped  clouds  more  delicate  of  dye 
Than  tintings  of  the  half-blown  rose. 
A  moment,  in  the  mellow  light, 
Shone  beaded  belt  and  hatchet  bright ; 
A  moment,  from  the  yellow  beam, 
Ring,  band  and  bracelet  caught  a  gleam  ; 
Then  the  dark  wood  of  boughs  inweaved, 
Within  its  depths  the  troop  received. 


THE  BOWER.  99 

* 

V. 

Beneath  tall  beeches,  gray  with  eld, 
Their  labyrinthine  course  they  held, 
While  well  the  hindmost  of  the  line 
From  view  concealed  betraying  sign ; 
Sending  keen  glances  in  the  rear, 
Lifting  bowed  herb  and  grassy  spear, 
Or  doubling,  when  the  oozy  ground 
Yielded  beneath  the  lightest  foot, 
Like  hunted  foxes  when  the  hound 
And  hunter  are  in  hot  pursuit. 
The  red-breast,  perched  in  arbor  green, 
Sad  minstrel  of  the  quiet  scene — 
While  hymning,  for  the  dying  sun, 
Strains  like  a  broken-hearted  one, 
Raised  not  her  mottled  wing  to  fly 
As  swept  those  silent  warriors  by. 
The  wood-cock,  in  his  moist  retreat, 
Heard  not  the  falling  of  their  feet ; 
On  his  dark  roost  the  gray  owl  slept ; 
Time  with  his  drum  the  partridge  kept, 
Nor  left  the  deer  his  watering-place, 
So  hushed,  so  noiseless  was  their  pace. 
Soon,  partly  veiled  by  bank  and  tree, 
They  scanned  the  rolling  Genesee, 
Catching,  within  his  channeled  bed, 
Deep  blushes  from  the  sunset  red, 


100  YONNONDIO. 

And,  stealing  onward,  reached  a  bay 
Where  light  pirogues  of  white-wood  lay, 
Fashioned  and  hollowed  out  alone 
By  eating  fire  and  gouge  of  stone. 
Impelled  by  dip  of  tapering  oar, 
Sharp  prows  receded  from  the  shore, 
And,  darting  through  the  flashing  waves 
Afloat  with  full  five  hundred  braves, 
Soon  rocked  beneath  the  willows  dank 
That  fringed  the  green,  opposing  bank. 

VI. 

Their  leader  breathed  a  low  command, 
And,  guarding  against  hostile  eye, 
Their  war-canoes  were  drawn  to  land, 
And  hidden  in  a  thicket  nigh  ; 
Then,  patiently,  each  warrior  plumed, 
With  cautious  tread,  the  march  resumed. 

Til. 

Changed  are  the  hills  that  overbrow 
The  vale  in  which  those  heroes  trod, 
And,  rudely,  hind  and  younker  now 
Look  on  their  ashes,  while  the  plough 

Disturbs  the  burial-clod ; 

And,  where  those  knights  of  bow  and  quiver 
Paddled  across  the  Pleasant  River, 
Burning  to  check  in  bold  advance 


THE  BOWEtf. 

The  serried  chivalry  of  France, 
Over  the  deep  and  hurrying  tide 
Yon  red  bridge  flings  its  arch  of  pride. 
The  forest,  many-toned  and  wide, 
Hath  vanished  from  the  river-side — 
Gone  are  green  roof  and  leafy  screen 
Like  vapor  yester-morning  seen  ; 
Fierce  wasting  flame  and  crashing  steel 
Rang,  long  ago,  its  funeral-peal. 
Where  browsed  the  elk  in  other  days, 
Fat  herds  in  thymy  meadows  graze  ; 
Wliere  the  fanged  cougar,  hating  day, 
Crouched  by  the  deer-lick  for  his  prey, 
Heard  is  the  tinkling  bell  of  flocks, 
And  Ceres  binds  her  wheaten  shocks, 

YIII. 

From  waves,  once  clear  as  mountain  rill, 
Where  pike  and  bass  the  red  man  speared, 
And  home  his  bark  by  torchlight  steered, 
The  finny  tribe  have  disappeared, 

Scared  by  the  clacking  mill ; 
And,  proudly,  on  the  ruined  homes 
Of  perished  tribes,  stand  lordly  domes : 
But  why  the  light  and  shade  contrast 
Of  present  hour,  and  clouded  past, 
While  notes  of  war  are  on  the  gale, 
And  the  plot  thickens  of  my  tale  1 
i2 


102  YONNONDIO. 


IX. 

The  fires  of  day  were  fading  fast — 

A  deeper  shade  the  forest  cast, 

While,  through  the  hallowed  place  of  graves. 

Moved  a  long  line  of  belted  braves. 

The  hand  of  reverence  and  love 

Had  broken  the  green  cope  above, 

For  the  red  forest  tribes  believe, 

When  comes  the  radiant  sunset-time, 
The  hillocks  of  the  dead  receive 

Bright  visits  from  the  Better  Clime. 
Round  each  old  tomb  the  paling  rude, 
From  year  to  year,  had  been  renewed, 
And  Indian  girls  had  trained  the  vine, 
Amid  the  pointed  stakes,  to  twine, 
And  decked  each  space  inclosed  with  flowers 
Culled  from  the  fairest  woodland  bowers. 
Pale,  velvet  mosses  over-crept 
Tombs  in  which  maid  and  mother  slept, 
And  fragile  infancy  reposed, 
A  wilding  flower  untimely  closed. 

x. 

There,  mindless  of  the  coming  years, 
Lay  old  and  venerated  seers, 
Carved  amulets  of  mystic  sway 
Commingling  with  their  wasted  clay. 


THE  BOWER.  103 

On  the  shagg'd  fells  of  wolf  and  bear, 
The  mighty  hunter  mouldered  there, 
His  favorite  hound  of  courage  tried, 
And  weapons  buried  by  his  side. 
There,  in  his  mantle  richly-furred, 
The  lord  of  nations  lay  interr'd, 
Forgetful  of  his  ancient  reign, 
Couched  on  proud  trophies  of  the  slain; 
His  name  a  rousing  watchword  still, 
Weak  arm  to  nerve,  faint  heart  to  thrill ; 
And  there,  his  silver  voice  untuned, 
Forever  glazed  his  falcon  eye, 
The  Cicero  of  wilds  unpruned 

Lay  crumbling  silently, 
Lost  on  the  wind,  like  chaunt  of  birds, 
His  passionate  and  burning  words. 


XI. 


Magnificently  robed  and  crowned 

Old  oaken  monarchs  stood  around, 

And  through  their  boughs,  thick-leaved  and  wide, 

The  low  wind,  like  a  mourner,  sighed. 

Their  gray  and  patriarchal  boles 

Consorted  well  with  funeral-knolls 

Where  slept,  in  gloom  that  knows  no  morn, 

The  tameless  and  the  forest-born. 


104  YONNONDIO. 


XII. 

Proud  piles  and  monuments  of  stone, 

Reared  in  remembrance  of  the  dead, 
Befit  the  sepulchres  alone 

Of  creatures  in  the  city  bred  j 
But  when  the  Child  of  Nature  dies, 

Deep  in  the  howling  woodland  waste, 
The  virgin-soil,  in  which  he  lies, 

By  other  land-mark  should  be  graced  : 
Let  bark  inclose  his  cold  remains; 

By  thunder  let  his  knell  be  rung ; 
By  warbling  birds  and  pattering  rains, 
And  the  low  zephyr  that  complains, 

His  soft  melodious  dirge  be  sung, 
With  trees  about,  unshorn  and  tall, 
flu  columns  of  memorial. 

XIII. 

Nigh  ashes  of  the  lost  and  loved, 
Old  Can-ne-hoot  and  party  moved 

With  lingering  gait  and  slow ; 
And  deemed,  in  every  rustling  oak, 
That  voices  of  the  mighty  spoke 

Of  fleet,   approaching  foe  : 
Imploring  them,  in  hollow  tones, 
From  outrage  to  defend  their  bones  j 
Commanding  them  to  keep  unstained 


THE  BOWER.  105 

The  glory  by  their  fathers  gained; 
And,  deeply,  in  remembrance  bear 
That,  after  death,  the  brave  repair 

To  happy  homes  and  hunting  grounds, 
While  cowards  haunt,  beyond  the  tomb, 
A  realm  of  black,  unending  gloom 

Where  bitter  fruit  abounds. 
Oh,  well  did  time  and  place  conspire 

To  light  proud  souls  in  wild-wood  bred 
With  sparks  of  pure,  heroic  fire 

Fann'd  from  pale  ashes  of  the  dead  ; 
And  bring  before  the  mental  sight 
Departed  chiefs,  once  famed  in  fight, 
With  war  clubs,  thickly  notched,  that  told 
How  mighty  were  the  men  of  old  ! 

XIV. 

Northward  the  forest  grew  more  blind, 
And  range  of  keenest  glance  confined : 
Above,  nor  strip  of  welkin  blue, 
Nor  opening  in  the  leafy  screen, 
For  twilight  ray  to  glimmer  through, 

And  cheer  the  hideous  gloom,  were  seen, 
The  matted  underwood  below 
Seemed  haunt,  alone,  of  reptile  foe, 
And  briar-rose  and  bramble  tall 
Threw  up  a  vegetable  wall. 


106  TTONNONDIO. 


XV. 


Long,  sylvan  colonnades  around, 
Ranged  dimly  on  the  forest-floor, 
By  capitals  of  umbrage  crowned, 

A  mighty  canopy  upbore; 
And  vines,  that  arched  from  tree  to  tree, 
Increased  the  dread  obscurity. 
There  often,  in  the  mid-day  light, 
Would  hoot  the  feathered  anchorite, 
And  the  dull  bat,  his  neighbor  meet, 
Air  with  thin,  volant  membrane  beat : 
There,  though  effulgent  morning  reigned, 
The  little  Katy-did  complained, 
And  the  lone  muk-a-wiss  was  heard, 
That  solemn  and  prophetic  bird, 
Outpouring  a  melodious  hymn 
Beneath  the  shade  of  leaf  and  limb. 


XVI. 


It  was  a  place  by  nature  formed 
For  the  brown  Indian  to  abide, 

With  heart  by  love  of  country  warmed, 
The  billows  of  the  battle-tide  ; 

And  there,  beneath  a  dun  arcade, 

Halt  by  the  Senecas  was  made. 

Picked  men  were  sent  to  watch  the  course, 

And  movements  of  the  hostile  force ; 


THE  BOWER,  107 

And  by  their  chieftain  charged  to  wile, 
From  glade  and  thinly  wooded  plain, 
Both  fiery  Frank  and  Huron  vile, 
And  with  them  artfully,  the  while, 
A  rapid,  running  fight  maintain, 
Till  their  close  ranks,  too  late  to  pause, 
And  their  lost  vantage  ground  regain, 

Were  trapp'd  in  grim  Destruction's  jaws  ! 

XVII. 

Posts,  by  the  leader,  were  assigned 

To  the  main  body  left  behind  : 

Their  practiced  ears  the  signal  caught, 

And  gliding,  noiseless  as  the  snake, 
Each  savage  form  a  cover  sought 

In  brambly  copse  and  tufted  brake, 
Save  the  hawk-eyed  and  nimble  spyr 
W^io,  stationed  in  a  tree-top  high 

That  towered  above  the  grove  profound, 
Was  charged  to  mock  the  wolf's  long  howl 
If  aught,  like  foe,  was  seen  to  prowl 

Their  hiding  place  around. 

XVIII. 

The  muster  at  war's  savage  call 
Of  Senecas  in  Council  Hall ; 
Dismaying  scene,  and  martial  rite 
Mingled  with  voices  of  affright ; 


108  YONtfONDlO. 

Mad  circling  dance,  mid  shriek  and  yell, 
As  if  Arch  Fiend  was  working  spell ; 
Mock  strife  in  which  fierce  howls  of  rage 
Were  loud  as  roar  when  hosts  engage ; 
The  march,  in  long  and  ordered  line, 
Of  warriors  watching  leader's  sign  ; 
And  craft  wherewith,  in  thicket  dread, 
Snare  for  invading  feet  is  spread — 
Too  long,  from  Blanche  and  Wun-nut-hay, 
Have  errant  Bard  detained  away. 

XIX. 

Romantic  was  the  leafy  bower, 

Impervious  to  sun  and  shower, 

By  the  young  exile  for  his  bride 

Wove  deftly  near  his  cabin-side. 

The  roving  linnet,  for  a  perch 

Screened  from  the  noontide  glare,  in  search, 

Or  butterfly,  on  gaudy  wing, 

Fatigued  with  restless  wandering, 

Above  could  not  an  entrance  find, 

So  closely  were  the  branches  twined. 

Detached  by  winds,  that  murmured  through 

The  lattice-work  impearled  with  dew, 

Fell  blossoms,  whiter  far  than  snow, 

On  the  green,  mossy  floor  below, 

From  thorn  and  wild  plum,  for  the  feet 

Of  the  sweet  minstrel  carpet  meet, 


THE  BOWER.  109 

Whose  voice,  attuned  to  mournful  key, 
Filled  the  bright  haunt  with  melody. 

xx. 

HYMN. 
1. 

Father ! — with  pale  hands  uplifted, 

Hear  thy  wandering  child  implore 
That  the  cloud  of  wo  be  rifted, 

And  the  light  poured  in  once  more  ! 
On  Life's  rose  the  wasting  canker 

Early  hath  impressed  its  mark ; 
Where,  oh  where  can  safely  anchor 

Sorrow's  frail  and  shattered  bark? 

2. 

Once,  around  my  pillow  brightly, 

From  thy  throne  fell  radiant  gleams — 
Now,  dim  shapes  of  evil  nightly 

Fill  with  misery  my  dreams. 
While  I  start  and  tremble,  fearing 

That  Hope's  star  will  never  dawn, 
In  mine  ear  a  voice  of  cheering 

Whispers — '  bear  and  struggle  on  /' 

3. 

"Child! — though  dark  affliction  ever 
Wakes  a  serpent  in  thy  breast, 


110  YONNONDIO. 

And  thy  foot,  aweary,  never 
Finds  on  earth  a  home  of  rest, 

Robed  in  loveliness  supernal, 
Filled  with  joy's  undying  song, 

Mansions,  many  and  eternal, 

To  thy  Father's  house  belong !" 


XXI. 


No  melancholy  voice,  or  sound, 
Breathing  of  anguish  and  despair, 

From  sunny  forest-aisles  around, 
On  passing  wind,  was  wafted  there. 

The  cascade,  darting  down  the  hill, 

And  prattle  of  the  vagrant  rill ; 

Exhilarating  chaunt  of  bird, 

And  squirrel's  gleesome  bark  were  heard, 

While  vocal  leaf  and  waving  spray 

Joined  in  a  summer  roundelay. 


XXII. 


The  clear,  bright  azure  of  the  sky, 

Dappled  with  cloudy  bars  of  white — 
Groves  tossing  their  green  plumes  on  high, 
And  flowers  of  deep,  but  varied  dye, 

Unfolding  in  the  golden  light, 
And  luring,  from  their  waxen  cells, 
Bees  to  their  nectar'd  cups  and  bells, 
Were  breathing  ministers  of  gladness, 


THE  BOWER.  Ill 

Rebuking  discontent  and  sadness : 
But  mindless  of  sweet  sights  and  sounds — 
Refreshing  balm  of  bud  and  flower, 
Sate  Blanche  within  the  leafy  bounds 

Of  her  romantic  bower, 
And  by  her  sde  the  forest  maid 
Enjoyed  the  cool  and  grateful  shade. 

XXIII. 

"  While  the  Great  Spirit,  from  above, 
Looks  down  upon  the  world  in  love, 
And  golden  skies  o'er  all  things  bend, 
Why,  daughter  of  the  distant  land !" 
Said  Wun-nut-hay,  her  dusky  friend, 
"  Press  on  thy  brow  that  lily -hand  ? 
Why  is  thy  heart  the  home  of  sighs, 
Of  briny  drops  thy  mournful  eyes  ? 
List!  — while  heroic  tale  of  old, 
To  wean  thee  from  sad  thought,  is  told !" 

XXIV. 

ON-NO-LEE. 

[A    LEGEND    OP    THE    CANADICE.] 

A  beautiful  lake  is  the  Canadice, 

And  wild  fowl  dream  on  its  breast  unscared ; 
Thy  golden  brooch,  of  costly  price, 

Is  dim  with  its  radiant  wave  compared. 


112  YONNONDIO. 

Edged  by  a  broad  and  silvery  belt 

Of  pebbles  bright,  and  glittering  sand, 
The  waters  into  music  melt 

When  breaking  on  the  strand; 
And  its  glimmering  sheet  of  azure  lies 

Unvexed  by  loud  and  warring  blast, 
For  green  old  hills,  that  round  it  rise, 
Fence  this  fair  mirror  of  the  skies 

From  storms  that  journey  past. 

XXV. 

A  beautiful  lake  is  the  Canadice, 

And  warblings  from  its  bosom  clear 
Go  up  by  moonlight,  and  entice. 

The  hunter  to  pause  and  hear. 
Oh !   mournful  are  the  tones  and  low, 
Like  the  mystic  voice  of  the  whip-po-wil, 
When  evening  winds  through  the  forest  blow. 

And  other  birds  are  still. 
Ear  never  heard  a  sadder  strain, 

In  the  time  of  frost  and  falling  leaves, 
When  brown  and  naked  woods  complain, 
And  the  brook,  late  fed  by  summer  rain, 

For  perished  verdure  grieves. 

XXVI. 

A  beautiful  lake  is  the  Canadice, 

And  tribesmen  dwelt  on  its  banks  of  yore, 


THE  BOWER.  113 

But  an  hundred  years  have  vanished  thrice 

Since  hearth-stones  smoked  upon  the  shore : 
The  Munsee  dreamed  not  of  a  foe  ; 

Unstrung  were  the  warrior's  arm  and  brow  ; 
And,  couched  on  skins,  he  little  thought 

The  fall  of  his  nation  was  at  hand. : 
His  ear  no  rattle  of  serpent  caught, 
No  gliding  ghost  a  warning  brought 

While  came  the  Mengwe  band. 
Too  late — too  late  to  fight  or  fly 

Was  rang  the  knell  of  his  ancient  power ; 
His  lip  pealed  forth  no  rallying  cry, 
From  slumber  he  only  woke  to  die 

At  the  solemn  midnight  hour. 
In  gore  his  household-gods  were  drenched, 
His  altar-fires  in  gore  were  quenched ; 
The  wail  of  babe  in  blood  was  choked, 
In  blood  his  burial-place  was  soaked, 
And,  lighting  up  the  midnight-heaven, 
To  flame  were  the  huts  of  his  people  given. 

XXVII. 

Though  tall  oaks  fell  in  their  kingly  pride, 
The  conqueror  saved  a  trembling  leaf; 

Of  that  little  clan  all  darkly  dyed 

Save  On-no-lee,  the  cherished  bride 
Of  their  brave  but  luckless  chief. 

Morn  dawned  upon  a  frightful  scene — 

K2 


114  YONNONDIO. 

The  Canadice  in  sunshine  lay ; 
But  blood  was  on  its  margin  green — 

A  tribe  was  swept  away. 
On  the  blackened  site  of  a  town  destroyed, 
The  raven  a  goodly  meal  enjoyed, 
And  the  wolf  called  forth  her  whelps,  to  share 
That  banquet  red,  from  her  gloomy  lair. 

XXVIII. 

Morn  dawned — and  on  their  homeward  track 
The  Mengwe,  flushed  with  conquest,  sped, 
And,  a  far-famed  leader,  Mic-ki-nac, 

That  band  of  spoilers  led. 
To  the  red  belt,  his  waist  around, 
The  hapless  On-no-lee  was  bound ; 
Spared  from  the  death-doom  of  her  race, 
The  pomp  of  his  return  to  grace, 
And  live  the  slave  of  one  who  bore 
The  scalp  of  her  fallen  Sagamore. 

XXIX. 

At  noon,  to  snatch  a  light  repast, 
The  party  halted  in  the  shade  ; 
But  On-no-lee  broke  not  her  fast, 
And  in  the  dust,  with  loathing  cast, 

The  food  before  her  laid. 
Oh !   woman  wronged,  within  her  soul 
Feels  fire  flash  up  that  mocks  control, 


THE  BOWER.  115 

When  the  ruthless  fiend,  to  whom  she  owes 
The  fearful  sum  of  her  blasting  woes, 
Is  yielded  up  her  prey  by  Fate, 
And  the  dagger  is  nigh  to  second  hate  ! 

XXX. 

Mic-ki-nac  sat  on  a  fallen  tree, 

And  of  savory  no-ke-Jiike  partook, 
And  by  his  side  was  On-no-lee, 

Survivor  of  the  butchery, 
Who  eyed  his  knife  with  an  eager  look. 
Round  the  haft  her  fingers  lightly  wreathed,  , 
The  glittering  weapon  she  unsheathed — 
One  well-aimed  blow,  and  she  was  free  ! 
Another, — and  the  purple  tide 
Gushed  from  her  savage  captor's  side 
Who  leaped  like  a  wounded  stag,  and  died, 

XXXI. 

Thunder,  without  a  cloud  in  sight, 

Or  whisper  of  warning  on  the  gale, 
Could  not  have  roused  more  wild  affright, 
Amid  his  braves,  than  deed  of  might 

Wrought  by  a  hand  so  frail ! 
Ere  they  recovered  from  the  shock 

Fled  On-no-lee  like  hunted  deer ; 
Glen,  stream  and  interposing  rock 

Barred  not  her  swift  career : 


116  YONNONDIO. 

A  vigor  never  felt  before, 

The  form  of  the  fugitive  upbore, 

And  to  her  active  foot  gave  wing, 

Though  fleet  were  the  blood-hounds  following. 


XXXII. 


In  vain  the  foremost  runner  strained, 

And  arrows  launched  from  his  twanging  bow, 
For  On-no-lee,  exulting,  gained 

A  cliff,  beyond  the  reach  of  foe, 
That  beetled  over  the  lake  below. 
Last  of  her  race,  with  desperate  eye — 

On  the  ruined  home  of  her  tribe  she  gazed ; 
Waved  her  avenging  arm  on  high, — 
Taunted  her  baffled  enemy, 

And  a  ringing  scream  of  triumph  raised — 
"Base,  worrying  curs! — go  back,  go  back, 

My  scalp  is  saved  from  Mengwe  smoke ! 
Go  hence,  and  look  for  Mic-ki-nac — 
The  famished  crow,  and  the  raven  black 

A  dirge  above  him  croak!" 
Regardless  of  the  whizzing  storm 
Of  missiles  raining  round  her  form, 
Imploring  eye  she  then  upcast, 
And  a  low,  mournful  death-hymn  sang  : 
On  hill  and  forest  looked  her  last, 
Once  glance  upon  the  water  cast, 

And  from  that  high  rock  sprang. 


THE  BOWER.  117 

XXXIII. 

Away  three  hundred  years  have  flown 

Since  the  Munsee  found  a  watery  grave; 
But  when  old  Night  is  on  her  throne, 
And  stars  troop  forth  her  sway  to  own, 

Rise  warblings  from  the  wave  : 
And  a  shadowy  face  of  mournful  mien, 

With  locks  all  draggled  by  the  surge, 
Belated  wanderers  have  seen 

From  the  glittering  lake  emerge — 
One  moment  float  in  moonlight  fair, 
Then  mix  with  the  waters,  or  vanish  in  air." 

XXXIV. 

Ere  Blanche  could  Wun-nut-hay  reward 
With  one  approving  smile  or  word, 

A  muffled  tread  upon  the  sward, 

And  sound  of  parting  boughs  she  heard : 

Upspringing,  with  a  joyous  cry, 

She  deemed  her  gallant  husband  nigh ; 

An  instant  more, — and  in  her  mien 

Fear's  paralyzing  power  was  seen ; 

All  color  vanished  from  her  cheek, 

Her  lips  were  locked,  and  could  not  speak ; 

Back  was  her  head  in  horror  thrown — » 

Her  form  all  motionless  like  stone  : 

Whence  came  the  spell  that  bound  her  frame, 


118          ^  YONNONDIO. 

And  hushed,  half-breathed,  a  loved  one's  name  1 
What  saw  she  ] — 

Through  the  flowery  wall 
Of  her  vine-woven  forest  hall, 
A  dark,  vindictive  visage  peered, 
With  paint,  denoting  war,  besmeared. 
Not  well  could  eloquence  have  framed 
The  language  by  that  look  proclaimed  : 
It  told  of  prize,  long  sought,  at  last 
In  hard,  unyielding  clutches  fast — 
Of  pleasure  such  as  panthers  feel, 
Though  longing  for  a  bloody  meal, 

When  hunted  down  their  prey  ; 
For  glared  keen  eye-balls  with  a  joy 
That  would  caress,  and  then  destroy 

Though  hunger  chid  delay. 

XXXV. 

A  something,  in  that  hideous  face, 
Could  Blanche  of  one  remembered  trace ; 
For  the  clear  outlines,  full  and  bold, 
Less  of  the  red,  than  white  man  told ; 
And  its  fixed  look  of  glad  surprise, 
Despite  of  barbarous  disguise, 
Announced  that  she  was  known  full  well, 
Plainly  as  word  could  syllable. 


THE  BOWER.  119 


XXXVI. 

As  howls  the  wood-wolf  to  his  pack 
When  some  fair  doe  rewards  his  search, 
And  the  far  hills  give  answer  back, 
Scaring  the  wild-bird  from  her  perch — 
So  did  that  man  of  evil  eye 
Out-pour  one  long,  loud  signal-cry, 
To  which  the  groves  replied  in  tone 
As  fierce  and  startling  as  his  own. 
Roused  was  the  lady  by  the  sound, 
And  Wun-nut-hay  looked  wildly  round 
For  outlet  of  escape  in  vain : 
Dark  forms,  in  Huron  garb  bedight, 
Like  serpents  glided  into  sight, 

And  bound  with  thongs  the  twain. 
The  party,  with  their  scowling  chief, 
Held  hurried  conference  and  brief 

In  harsh  and  guttural  tone ; 
Then  left  the  violated  bower 
Like  men,  in  dread  of  hostile  power, 

Who  trust  to  speed  alone. 

END    OP    CANTO    FOURTH. 


YONNONDIO. 


CANTO    FIFTH. 


THE   RESCUE. 

Mourn  for  the  lovely  cabin-home  that  smiled 
On  the  dim  borders  of  the  forest  old  ! 

Changed  to  a  scene  of  desolation  wild, 
Its  arbor,  walls  and  portico,  behold ! 

Though  faint  the  maak  of  footprints  on  the  mould, 
Fearless  and  fleet  avenger  will  pursue 

While  shadowy  Night  comes  down  on  wave   and 
wold : — 

•    For  captive  made,  by  fell,  marauding  crew, 
Is  one  more  dear  than  life — his  partner  fond  and  true  ! 


Eastward  the  spoilers  held  their  way, 
And  when  the  forest-edge  was  won, 
Shone  on  green  leaf  and  waving  spray, 


122  YONNONDIO. 

A  glare  more  lurid  than  the  ray 

Of  red,  descending  sun. 
Poor  Blanche  threw  back  one  parting  gaze, 
Her  cottage-home  was  in  a  blaze  ; 
Thick  smoke  hung  round  it  like  a  pall, 
Fire  darted  out  from  roof  and  wall ; 
Black  cinders  on  her  arbor  fell, 
Fierce  flames  rang  out  a  crackling  knell ; 
Vines,  trained  above  the  porch  to  meet, 
Were  fast  consuming  in  the  heat; 
And  clustering  rose-trees,  taught  to  shade^ 

The  windows  by  her  fingers  fair, 
With  wooing  winds  no  longer  played 
In  green  and  crimson  robe  array'd, 
By  the  hot  breath  of  ruin  made 

Black,  verdureless  and  bare  : 
And  birds  that  she  had  lured  away 
From  lone,  deep  haunts  in  forest  gray, 
To  hop  unscared  around  her  door — 

From  that  ill-fated  dwelling  fled, 
As  if  they  knew  the  hand  that  fed 

Could  fling  them  crumbs  no  more. 

n. 

Soon  was  the  burning  wreck  from  view 
Veiled  by  dark,  interposing  trees ; 
But  well,  too  well  the  lady  knew 
By  voices  on  the  passing  breeze — 


THE    RESCUE.  123 

A  sullen  crash — a  muffled  din — 
That  the  loved  roof  was  tumbling  in, 
Burying,  in  its  timeless  fall, 
Full  many  a  sad  memorial, 
And  token  dear  of  other  hours 
When  fell  her  fairy  foot  on  flowers. 

in. 

Fiends  who  had  fired  that  sylvan  cot, 
Letters  and  books  regarded  not, 
But  rudely  bore  alone  from  thence, 
Toys  that  they  deemed  of  consequence  : 
While  the  prized  wardrobe  of  her  child, 
Whose  lonely  grave  was  in  the  wild — 
Home  missives,  from  the  camp  in  haste, 
By  her  old,  warlike  father  traced, 
Before  his  heart  became  a  waste ; 
And,  lastly,  than  all  cherished  things 
More  precious  in  her  wanderings, 
The  Bible  by  a  mother  given 
When  Earth  about  to  quit  for  Heaven, 
Dissolved  in  flame,  while  wanton  gale 
Scattered  abroad  their  ashes  pale. 

IV, 

When  captives  and  marauding  band 
Reached  a  tall  ridge  of  wooded  land 
That,  eastward,  walled  the  pleasant  vale, 


124  YONNONDIO. 

Day  into  glimmering  twilight  died, 
And  murmurs  from  the  river-side 

Came  softened  on  the  gale  j 
And  Blanche  from  that  commanding  height 
(Above  the  tree-tops,  far  beneath) 
Saw  vapor  rise,  more  black  than  night, 
From  her  lost  dwelling's  blackened  site, 

In  many  a  mournful  wreath. 


v. 


Onward  their  course  the  party  urged, 

Until  they  reached  a  babbling  brook, 
Then  from  the  beaten  trail  diverged, 
And  their  way,  in  shadow  merged, 

More  slowly  southward  took  : 
Now  on  gnarled  oak,  by  hatchet  blazed, 
The  keen  eye  of  some  savage  gazed ; 
Anon  the  rearmost  warrior  paused 

When  heard  was  some  unusual  sound 
By  distant  scream  of  panther  caused, 

Or  dry  branch  falling  to  the  ground. 
The  moon  in  her  pale  march  was  far, 
And  twinkled  many  a  watching  star 
When  a  deep  dell  was  gained  where  sped 
Co-ne-sus  o'er  his  pebbly  bed — 
Bright  outlet  of  that  pearl  of  Lakes 
From  which  a  tuneful  name  it  takes, 


THE  RESCUE.  125 

Rushing  to  lose  its  silvery  gleam 
In  the  dark  River's  turbid  stream ! 

VI. 

To  halt,  their  leader  gave  command, 
And  parleyed  with  his  scowling  band, 
As  if  in  doubt  to  steer  his  course 
Down  the  swift  tide,  or  toward  its  source ; 
But  an  old  brave  of  haughty  port, 
And  glittering  eye,  debate  cut  short, 
And  pointing  to  the  water,  flecked 
With  quivering  spots  of  lunar  light, 
Said  in  the  Huron  dialect — 

"  Wolves  will  throng  forth  to  night ! 
Watch-fires  are  lit  their  way  to  teach 
By  upland-swell  and  river-beach  j 
Their  tell-tale  runner  that  we  chased, 
Howls  in  their  den,  and  we  must  haste  !" 
On  the  creek's  bottom  then  he  strode, 
Before  his  chief,  to  show  the  way, 
Each  bearing  in  his  arms  a  load — 

Sad  Blanche  and  Wun-nut-hay — 
While  figures  gaunt  brought  up  the  rear 
With  watchful  eye  and  open  ear. 

VII. 

Above,  the  overhanging  banks 
Were  lined  by  trees  in  broken  ranks, 

L2 


126  YONNONDIO. 

And  moonlight,  falling  gently  down, 

Set  with  rich  pearls  each  emerald  crown. 

There  towered,  majestical  and  old, 

The  dark-leaved  hemlock  from  the  mould, 

The  spruce,  unstirr'd  by  breath  of  air, 

Shaped  like  a  parasol,  was  there, 

And  the  huge  pine  full  proudly  bore 

His  honors  like  a  regal  thing, 

His  trunk  with  mossy  velvet  hoar, 

Fit  ermine  for  so  wild  a  king. 

VIII. 

A  hill  once  strongly  fortified, 
Down  sloping  to  the  water-side, 

Captor  and  captive  hurried  by  : 
Stockade  and  trench  still  crowned  the  place, 
Memorials  of  a  vanished  race 

Whose  green,  old  graves  were  nigh. 
A  clearing  of  uneven  ground 
Once  spread  the  ruined  fortress  round, 
But  mid  huge  stumps,  decayed  and  black, 

Young  oaks  were  springing  green  and  high, 
And  fast  the  grove  was  winning  back 

Its  old  supremacy  : — 
It  was  a  scene  of  mingling  hues, 
And  not  unmeet  for  BRYANT'S  muse, — 
That  whispered  of  the  dead  and  gone, 
Lovely, — though  sad  to  look  upon — 


THE  RESCUE.  127 

Telling  that  in  the  forest's  heart, 

Like  his  frail  brother  of  the  mart, 

Untutored  man  a  structure  rears 

To  long  outlast  his  wasting  form, 

To  stand  when  r'ound  his  grave  the  storm 

Hath  howled  uncounted  years. 

IX. 

Pursuing,  in  its  channel  wide, 
The  silvery  windings  of  the  tide, 
The  party  fared  a  mile  or  more, 
Then  forward  hurried  on  the  shore. 
"  If  foemen  follow,  they  will  find 
A  watery  trail  both  cold  and  blind, 
Though  keen  as  vultures  on  the  scent !" 
Muttered  the  leader  to  his  crew, 

And  his  breath  more  freely  drew, 
Like  one  relieved  from  sense  of  fear, 
Deeming  black  danger,  lately  near, 

No  longer  imminent. 
"Where  had  that  voice  the  lady  heard  1 
A  tumult  in  her  heart  was  stirr'd, 

Recalling  scenes  beyond  the  main  ; 
Though  harsh  the  tone  as  raven's  croak, 
An  echo  of  the  past  it  woke 

In  her  distracted  brain. 


. 

128  YONNONDIO. 


X. 

Long  ere  the  mid  hour  of  the  night, 
Crossed  the  dark  robbers  in  their  flight 
The  grassy  carpet  of  a  glade, 
From  which,  through  bowers  of  glossy  green, 
Bright  glimpses  of  the  Lake  were  seen 

On  which  wan  moonlight  played. 
Plunging  in  thickets,  soon  they  hied 
Without  one  friendly  star  to  guide, 
So  dark  the  cover  overhead 
Of  long-armed  butternut,  inweaved 
With  oak  and  chestnut  thickly-leaved, 

And  evergreen  outspread. 
Eastward  the  lake  of  silver  breast, 
Beneath  a  cloudless  sky  at  rest, 

A  gun-shot  from  their  wood-path  lay  ; 
But,  on  its  beach  of  whitened  sand, 
Dreaded  a  march — that  crafty  band — 

Lest  footprint  might  betray. 

XI. 

Emerged,  at  last,  each  cautious  brave 
From  sylvan  labirynth  of  gloom, 

And  low  winds,  freshened  by  the  wave, 
Stirred  blanket-fold  and  eagle-plume  : 

Again  the  moonshine  brightly  fell 


THE  RESCUE.  129 

On  rounded  brooch  and  bead  of  shell, 
On  spoiler  and  his  pinioned  prey, 
From  friends,  a  weary  march,  away. 


XII. 


Descending  from  the  higher  ground, 
Through  matted  underwood  they  wound, 
And  on  a  tongue  of  land  arrived, 

Outstretching  far  into  the  mere, 
An  emerald  set  in  crystal  clear, 
Dotted  with  oaks  whose  upright  forms 
Stern  warfare  with  the  wrestling  storms 

Of  ages  had  survived. 
A  clump,  more  ancient  than  the  others — 
A  group  of  iron-hearted  brothers, 
Towered  with  their  trunks  of  rugged  shape 
Near  the  curved  margin  of  the  cape  : 
And  underneath  their  branches  gray, 
To  halt  until  the  dawn  of  day, 

Encamped  that  predatory  horde  : 
Short  was  their  meal — their  only  cheer, 
Parched  maize,  and  smoke-dried  flesh  of  deer — • 

Mossed  earth  their  banquet-board. 
With  flint  and  steel  though  well  supplied, 
Red  camp-fire  they  enkindled  not, 
Through  fear  some  treach'rous  brand  might  guide 

Fierce,  wandering  Maquas  to  the  spot. 


130 


YONNONDIO. 


Thirsting  for  blood,  and  armed  to  slay, 
While,  bound  in  slumber's  thrall,  they  lay. 

XIII. 

When  broken  was  their  lengthened  fast, 
The  pipe  around  the  circle  passed  ; 
Then,  wearied  by  a  march  of  toil, 

And  glad  their  toughened  limbs  to  rest, 
All  couched  them  down  upon  the  soil, 

As  if  it  was  their  mother's  breast, 
Save  watchman  gaunt  who  vigil  kept 
While  others  in  their  blankets  slept, 
And  two,  upon  a  fallen  tree, 
Seated  in  earnest  colloquy  : 
One  that  dark  man  of  evil  mien 
Who  first  spied  Blanche  in  arbor  green, 
And  Huron  who,  through  forest  dim, 
In  swift  retreat  had  guided  him. 

XIT. 

"  My  brother  now  his  eye  may  close, 
Safe  from  assault  of  roving  foes  ; 
Brown,  burrowing  moles  have  keener  sight, 
And  water  leaves  no  trace  of  flight" — 
Growled  the  old  chief — "  Enough  for  them 
Like  leaves  to  die  on  girdled  stem  ; 
For  them  enough  in  their  despair 
To  strike  the  painted  battle-post, 


THE  RESCUE.  131 

While  rush,  to  smoke  them  in  their  lair, 

Great  Yonnondio  and  his  host ! 
Through  brambly  wold  and  swampy  ground 

It  ill  becomes  a  brave  to  dodge, 
Like  hunted  fox  before  the  hound, 

To  place  yon  White-Rose  in  thy  lodge, 
Winning  himself,  a  stripling's  prize, 
Her  sister-flower  of  darker  dyes  ! 
What  will  my  taunting  tribesmen  say 
If  I  am  absent  from  the  fray, 
Counting,  in  scorn  before  my  face, 
The  scalp-locks  of  a  vanquished  race  ? 
On  this  gray  head  will  rest  disgrace — 
Hushed  will  my  voice  in  council  be, 
Clouded  my  name  eternally  ; — 
Speak,  brother,  speak !" 

"A  Huron  thou!" 
(Exclaimed  his  comrade  in  reply, 
While  gathered  gloom  upon  his  brow,) 
"  And  ask  acquittal  from  a  vow 
Pledged  to  another  solemnly'? 
In  other  mould  I  deemed  thee  cast — 
One  proving  faithful  to  the  last ; — 
Thy  brother,  to  his  promise  true, 
Thee  and  thy  warriors  will  requite 
With  blankets  of  a  gaudy  hue, 
And  ornaments  of  silver  bright, 
Richer  than  mighty  Sagamore 


132  YONNONDIO. 

In  hall  of  council  ever  wore 

If  guarded  on  his  dangerous  trail : — 

Ere  rise  and  set  four  fleeting  suns, 

Our  camping  ground  will  be  the  vale 

Through  which  the  Wy-a-lu-sing  runs  ; 

There  waits  the  friendly  Nanticoke 

His  calumet  with  us  to  smoke, 

And  mats  provide  of  texture  fine 

On  which  our  tired  limbs  may  recline." 

xv. 

*"  •  ^ 

"  Hah !  doubting  still  what  course  to  take, 

Thy  word  redeem,  or  compact  break  ] 

For  answering  with  stab  and  yell 

The  challenge  of  the  sentinel 

Who  from  foul  shame  an  Indian  spared, 

Mad  with  deep  draughts  of  liquid  fire, 

When  whip  was  raised,  and  back  was  bared, 

By  calming  Yonnondio's  ire  ? 

Who  bears  the  name  that  Frenchmen  bore  £ 

Rememberest  thou  ?"      "  No  more,  no  more  ! — 

When  dusky  night  is  at  an  end 

The  Black  Fox  journeys  with  his  friend  !" 

Then,  on  the  ground  with  green-sward  floored, 

Their  ancient  amity  restored, 

Stretched  their  tired  limbs,  that  miscreant  pair, 

'Till  day-break  gleamed  to  slumber  there. 


THE  RESCUE.  133 


XVI. 

Apart  a  temporary  tent 

Of  poles,  crotched  stakes  and  branches  bent, 

Loosely  with  strips  of  bark  o'er-laid, 

For  the  tired  captives  had  been  made  ; 

And  a  grim  savage,  keeping  guard, 

Its  low  and  narrow  entrance  barred, 

Droning,  to  keep  himself  awake, 

Rude  fragments  of  some  forest  tune, 

Or  looking  forth  upon  the  Lake 

When  shrieked  the  solitary  loon 

Amid  tall  flags  and  clustering  reeds — 

A  warning  that  the  Indian  heeds 

Taught  truly  by  tradition  old 

That  storm  was  in  that  cry  foretold. 

XVII. 

The  wind-swept  waters  on  the  shore 
Broke  with  a  low,  dull,  muttering  roar 
Reflecting  back  a  lurid  glare 
"When  lightning  lanced  the  darkened  air. 
The  moon  was  muffled  in  a  cloud, 
Its  leafy  top  the  forest  bowed, 
And,  far  within  its  solemn  bounds, 
Woke  dismal  moans  and  creaking  sounds. 

M 


134  YONNONDIO, 


XVIII. 

What  shielded  Blanche,  through  trial  sore, 
And  hardships  never  known  before, 
From  perishing  like  lily  frail 
When  outraged  by  the  tyrant-gale  *? 
Reared  in  a  palace  o'er  the  sea, 
And  daughter  of  a  noble  race, 
Slight  as  the  blue  anemone 
Was  her  light  form  of  Phidian  grace  ; 
And  yet,  dark  ills  that  well  might  test 
The  temper  of  the  sternest  breast, 
To  danger  used — to  toil  inured, 
This  high-born  woman  had  endured. 
Who  was  that  man  of  evil  eye 
Whose  voice  roused  buried  memory  1 
Whence  came  he  with  that  felon-tread  ? 
Can  shrouded  corse  forsake  its  bed  1 — 
Where  was  her  home — her  husband,  where 
Such  questions  must  have  nursed  despair. 

XIX. 

Oh  !  what  a  medicine  for  one, 

Whose  heart,  though  rudely  torn,  aches  on, 

Is  dull,  oblivious  repose — 

A  brief  unconsciousness  of  woes ; 

The  dreary  luxury  of  forgetting 

That  perils  are  our  path  besetting : 


THE  RESCUE.  135 

And  Blanche  in  sleep  forgot  awhile 
Dark  foe  with  heart  of  guilt  and  guile  ; 
Her  forest-home  made  desolate, 
Her  infant's  grave,  and  absent  mate 
Who  came  not  when  she  shrieked  for  aid, 
When  ruffian-hand  was  on  her  laid : 
Rude  was  the  couch  on  which  she  lay, 
Of  gathered  moss  and  leaves  composed, 
And  by  her  side  was  Wun-nut-hay 
With  brain  at  work,  and  eye  unclosed. 


Accustomed,  when  a  little  child, 
To  wander  with  her  roving  race, 
Through  the  dim  alleys  of  the  wild, 
From  stream  to  stream,  and  place  to  place ; 
And,  by  her  forest  training,  taught 
Tasks  to  perform  with  peril  fraught ; 
The  reptile  in  her  path  to  slay ; 
By  precipice  to  track  her  way  ; 
The  rushing  hurricane  to  shun 
When  its  black  banner  veiled  the  sun ; 
With  steady  hand  her  skiff  .to  steer, 
Though  the  dark  whirlpool  eddied  near ; 
Or  with  a  firm,  unwavering  stride 
On  slippery  pole  to  cross  the  tide, 
Still  did  that  Indian  maid  possess 
A  power  that  conquered  weariness. 


136  YONNONDIO. 


XXI. 

Lone  musing  on  her  captive  state 

Roused  old,  hereditary  hate. 

Her  mind,  with  thoughts  of  freedom,  teemed  ; 

By  her,  revenge  was  virtue  deemed : 

Though  woman  all,  the  blood  of  chiefs 

Timed  the  proud  throbbings  of  her  heart, 

And  grief,  beyond  all  other  griefs, 

From  her  own  tribe  it  was  to  part, 

And  hear  no  more  On-yit-ha's  voice 

Salute  the  maiden  of  his  choice. 

All  swollen  were  her  pinioned  hands ; 

Whose  work  was  this — who  twined  these  bands  * 

And  shall  the  daughter  of  the  brave 

Live  in  the  Huron's  lodge,  a  slave  1 

Her  fettered  hands  she  tried  to  free ; 

Why  from  the  task  desisted  she1? 

XXII. 

Love  for  the  being  by  her  side 
Reclining  like  some  faded  flower, 
On  which  the  dew  of  even-tide 
Exerted  no  reviving  power. 
And  would  she  leave  her  pale-browed  friend, 
Too  weak  and  travel-worn  to  fly, 
Beneath  misfortune's  load  to  bend, 
And  quaff  the  cup  of  misery  ? 


THE  RESCUE.  137 

Again  she  mused  : — a  happy  thought 
Relieved  her  spirit  over-wrought, 
Lighting  the  chambers  of  her  brain — 
Perchance  On-yit-ha  and  De  Grai, 
To  rescue  them,  were  on  the  way, 

With  warriors  in  their  train  ; 
But  clouds  were  curtaining  the  moon — 
Dark,  dark  would  be  their  pathway  soon, 
And  guiding  runner  they  would  need 
Through  glen  and  copse  the  band  to  lead. 

XXIII. 

The  Huron,  charged  night-watch  to  keep, 
Betrayed  by  breathing,  long  and  deep, 
That  his  keen  eye  was  sealed  in  sleep. 
Again,  to  disengage  her  hands, 
Essayed  she  from  encircling  bands; 
And,  after  many  a  desperate  strain, 
Parted  the  leathern  cord  in  twain. 
Then,  to  unloose  her  feet,  she  tried — 
In  vain !  they  were  too  firmly  tied : 
Numbed  was  her  deeply -furrowed  wrist, 
Her  skill  the  knot  could  not  untwist ; 
She  only  tightened  more  the  thong, 
More  painful  made  its  pressure  strong. 
And  must  that  young,  heroic  maid 
Thus  baffled  in  high  purpose  be  ? 
M2     • 


138  YONNONDIO. 

The  slumbering  Huron  wears  a  Blade, 
And  in  its  edge  is  liberty. 


XXIV. 


While  crept  she  by  approaches  slow, 

With  noiseless  caution,  towards  her  foe, 

No  other  light  revealed  his  form 

Than  flashings  of  the  coming  storm, 

And  gleams  of  moonlight  struggling  through 

Vapor,  and  clouds  of  ebon  hue. 

Softly  her  moving  fingers  felt 

For  sheath,  depending  from  his  belt, 

And  lightly,  by  her  clasping  hand, 

The  weapon's  buckhorn-haft  was  spann'd ; 

Then  forth  its  bladed  steel  she  drew — 

One  stroke  !  the  tether  fell  in  two  ; 

But,  whispering  in  the  Huron's  ear, 

Some  demon  must  have  hovered  near ; 

For,  ere  her  feet  the  maiden  gained, 

An  iron  grasp  her  steps  detained. 


XXV. 


An  instant  flashed  the  knife  on  high, 
In  the  red  lightning  darting  by ; 
The  next,  within  the  sentry's  breast, 
A  sheath,  from  point  to  hilt,  it  found — 
Heaved,  with  convulsive  throe,  his  chest, 
While  crimson  spouted  from  the  wound  : 


THE    RESCUE.  139 

His  powerless  hand  relaxed  its  hold, 

Thrilled  to  his  heart  a  shudder  cold ; 

Frothy  his  quivering  lips  became ; 

To  earth  sank  heavily  his  frame  ; 

A  filmy  veil  his  eye  closed  o'er — 

One  groan !  the  strong  man  was  no  more, 

XXVI, 

Griping  the  bloody  weapon  fast, 

Alive  to  every  wandering  sound, 

A  hurried  glance  the  maiden  cast 

The  shadowy  encampment  round. 

Witless,  dreamed  on  the  robber-band, 

Of  brother  slain  by  woman's  hand ; 

No  warrior  in  his  blanket  stirr'd — 

Weaves,  wrangling  with  the  rocks,  she  heard ; 

And  sang  the  blast,  old  oaks  amid, 

Mournful  at  times,  and  wild  by  starts, 

As  if  unhappy  fiends  lay  hid 

Within  their  knotty  hearts  : 
Streaming  in  agitated  air, 
W^aved,  in  loose  flakes,  her  unbound  hair, 
While  lambent  and  electric  light 
By  fits  revealed  the  Lake  to  sight, 
Giving  the  surge  a  fiery  crest, 
And  chasing  darkness  from  its  breast. 


140  YONNONDIO. 

XXVII. 

Treading  upon  the  grassy  sod, 
As  if  her  foot  with  moss  was  shod, 
Fled,  on  her  errand,  Wun-nut-hay  ; 
Nor  paused  to  list,  or  look  behind, 
While  groves  of  outline  undefined 

Before  her  darkly  lay: 
Boldly  she  plunged  their  depths  within, 
Though  thorns  pierced  through  her  moccasin, 
And  the  black  clouds,  unsealed  at  last, 
Discharged  their  contents,  thick  and  fast, 
Drenching  her  locks  and  vesture  slight, 
And  blinding  with  large  drops  her  sight. 

XXVIII. 

The  grisly  wolf  was  on  the  tramp 

To  gain  the  cover  of  his  lair  ; 
Fierce  eyes  glared  on  her  from  the  swamp, 

As  if  they  asked  her  errand  there. 
The  feathered  hermit  of  the  dell 
Flew  hooting  to  his  oaken  cell, 
And  grape-vines,  tied  in  leafy  coil 
To  gray-armed  giants  of  the  soil, 
Swung  like  a  vessel's  loosened  shrouds 
Drifting  beneath  a  bank  of  clouds. 
From  the  pine's  huge  and  quaking  cone, 
Came  sobbing  and  unearthly  tone, 


THE  RESCUE.  141 

While  trunks  decayed,  of  measure  vast, 
Fought  for  the  last  time  with  the  blast, 
And  near  her  fell  with  crashing  roar 
That  shook  the  cumbered  forest-floor  : 

XXIX. 

But  hurried  on  the  forest-child, 
Though  night  and  tempest  in  the  wild 
Engendered  sights  and  sounds  of  fear ; 
And  not  one  star  of  friendly  ray 
Her  dismal  and  her  dangerous  way 

Looked  softly  forth  to  cheer. 
Passing  through  brake  and  watery  fen,         9 
Unharmed  she  reached  the  woody  glen, 
Through  which  the  swift  Conesus  winds, 
And  the  blue  lake  an  outlet  finds. 

XXX. 

Weary  with  flight,  her  agile  form 
Against  a  hemlock-stem  she  leaned, 

From  the  rude  buffet  of  the  storm 
By  overhanging  foliage  screened : 

She  tarried  there  till  ceased  the  rain, 

Till  moonshine  silvered  Night  again, 

And  the  hoarse  clarion  of  the  gale 

Changed  its  high  note  to  dying  wail ; 

Then,  freshened  by  a  little  rest, 

Adventuring  forth  upon  her  quest, 


142  YONNONDIO. 

Along  the  creek's  green  marge  she  sped ; 
And  water-drops  the  grove  shook  down, 
When  air-gusts  waved  the  branches  brown, 

On  her  unsheltered  head. 
A  wary  glance  around  she  threw 
When  loomed  the  ruined  Fort  to  view  j 
Taught,  by  the  legends  of  her  race, 
That  haunted  was  the  quiet  place 
By  vapory  phantoms  of  the  dead, 
Earth  echoless  beneath  their  tread, 
Stalking,  with  fixed  and  freezing  gaze, 
'Mid  mouldering  wrecks  of  other  days. 
• 

XXXI. 

When  nigh  the  scene  where,  full  of  wile, 
The  Huron  band  held  parle  awhile, 
And  their  trail  enj^ed  in  the  tide, 
A  sound,  like  mimicked  bleat  of  deer, 
Came  wafted  to  her  practiced  ear 

From  the  glen's  northern  side. 
The  valley,  from  its  depths  of  shade, 
Prompt  answer  to  the  signal  made  : 
Brush  cracked  beneath  the  tread  of  feet ; 
And  a  dark  group  of  belted  men, 
Led  by  a  chieftain  tall  and  fleet, 

Gathered  within  the  glen. 


THE  RESCUE.  143 


XXXII. 

There  was  an  open  glade  of  green 
The  northern  bank  and  wave  between, 
And,  in  its  moonlit  centre,  stood 
These  martial  rangers  of  the  wood, 
Impatient,  while  compelPd  to  halt, 
Like  hounds,  in  chase  of  game,  at  fault : 
One  form  the  maiden  would  have  known 
Disguised  in  raiment  not  his  own  ; 
But  the  long  plume  of  raven  hue, 
And  wampum-sash,  full  well  she  knew. 

XXXIII. 

Emerging  from  the  thicket  dim, 
New  vigor  braced  her  failing  limb, 
And  scarce  her  foot  the  herbage  brushed, 
While  to  On-yit-ha's  arms  she  rushed. 
Her  sudden  presence  wonder  woke, 
And  from  the  band  an  outcry  broke — 
Half  doubting  evidence  of  sight; 
Deeming  that  phantom  of  the  night 
Alone  would  be  abroad,  to  scour 
So  wild  a  dell,  at  such  an  hour  : 
But  who  is  he,  of  manly  frame, 
W^n  visage,  and  dishevel'd  hair, 
Whose  trembling,  whitened  lips  exclaim. 


144  YONNONDIO. 

"  Where  is  my  Blanche  ?  oh  !  tell  me,  where  ?" 

One  who  would  fain  throw  life  away, 

The  houseless,  wretched,  wronged  De  Grai  ; 

But  hope  on  his  bruised  heart  shed  rays 

Like  moonlight  glimmering  through  the  haze  ; 

And  his  cheek  lost  its  ghastly  shade, 

When  told  her  tale  that  Indian-maid ; 

Recounting,  with  a  graphic  power, 

The  capture  in  his  lady's  bower, 

Sad  conflagration  of  the  cot, 

War  paint,  and  costume  of  the  foe — 

Their  swift  departure  from  the  spot, 

Dreading  the  twang  of  hostile  bow. 

XXXIV. 

She  well  portrayed  the  course  they  took 
Through  dark  morass,  up  channelled  brook, 
Until  they  reached  their  camping-ground — 
Lone  lake  in  front — the  Woods  around: 
Their  caution  in  not  kindling  fires, 
Fearful  they  might  prove  funeral-pyres ; 
Then  drawing  forth,  yet  red  with  strife, 
From  underneath  her  robe,  a  knife, 
Narrated  she,  in  modest  phrase, 
The  daring  nature  of  the  deed 
By  which  her  prisoned  limbs  she  freed — 
The  waking  sentry's  iron  grasp, 
His  instant  fall,  and  dying  gasp, 
While  stern  lips  murmured  praise. 


THE  RESCUE.  145 

XXXV. 

"  On ! — we  will  end  the  bloody  task 

A  woman  hath  so  well  begun ; 
Nor  shall  this  brood  of  adders  bask 

Unharmed  beneath  to-morrow's  sun  : 
The  Night  Hawk  will  not  fold  his  wings 
Until  he  robs  them  of  their  stings, 
And  the  pale  chief,  from  o'er  the  main, 
Looks  on  his  stolen  one  again, 
And  listens,  while  she  fills  his  ear 
With  music  that  he  loves  to  hear." 
By  hand  on  weapon  fiercely  laid, 
And  frowning  brow,  and  flashing  eye, 
Each  warrior  to  his  leader  made 
A  meaning,  though  a  mute  reply* 
Bounding  with  long  and  measured  lope. 
Under  the  green  woods'  leafy  cope, 
On-yit-ha  urged  his  warriors  on  : 
De  Grai  moved  swiftly  by  his  side, 
And  near  was  Wun-nut-hay,  their  guide, 

Tripping  like  startled  fawn. 

XXXVI. 


How  sweetly  fell  the  wan  moonlight 
Upon  the  Huron  camp  that  night, 
When  the  wild  storm,  its  fury  spent, 
Undarkened  left  the  firmament ! 


146  YONNONDIO. 

How  pleasantly  the  moonbeam  shone 
When  died  away  the  thunder-groan, 
And  waves,  in  wrath  that  lately  heaved, 
A  glory  from  its  light  received ; 
While  forest  on  the  shore,  and  hill, 
Were  imaged  in  the  water  still, 
And  vine  and  flower,  that  grew  about, 
Gemmed  by  the  rain,  gave  fragrance  out ! 

XXXVII. 

Made  restless  by  his  dampened  bed, 
A  waking  warrior  raised  his  head ; 
Then,  rising  slowly  to  his  feet, 
Looked  on  the  Lake's  unruffled  sheet ; 
Bright  dimple  on  earth's  chequered  face, 
A  radiant  ^pearl  in  emerald  vase, 
And  mirror  meet  for  Naiad  fair 
To  look  on  when  she  plaits  her  hair ! 
It  lay  a  type  of  holy  rest, 
And  primal  freshness  wrapped  its  breast ; 
Its  surface,  smooth  as  polished  steel, 
Ploughed  never  by  the  wandering  keel, 
Wind,  water-fowl  and  falling  shower 
Its  playmates  since  creation's  hour. 

XXXVIII. 

a  • 

So  picturesque,  so  calm  a  view, 
Beneath  June-skies  of  cloudless  blue, 


THE  RESCUE.  147 

By  tranquil  charm  might  well  have  curbed 
The  tumult  of  a  soul  disturbed  ; 
And  yet  that  lonely  warrior  stood, 
With  folded  arms,  in  murky  mood. 
Nervous  at  times,  and  scared  he  seemed 
As  if  of  evil  he  had  dreamed ; 
In  sleep  some  drear  fore-warning  heard, 
Dark  curse,  or  death-denouncing  word  ; 
And  ill  his  eye  of  savage  glare 
Comported  with  a  scene  so  fair. 

XXXIX. 

He  muttered  low  : — "  what  leaden  weight 

Rests  heavy  on  my  heart  of  late  1 

Have  I  not  reason  to  rejoice 

In  spite  of  that  strange,  mocking  voice 

That  whispered  in  mine  ear  of  doom, 

Winged  death-shot,  and  dishonored  tomb  1 

Though  black  cloud  lower,  or  day-beam  shine, 

The  guerdon  of  revenge  is  mine ; 

I  loved  her,  aye  !   adored  her  long, 

Her  name  the  burden  of  my  song : 

Though  scornful  the  return  I  met, 

Some  old  affection  lingers  yet, 

A  faded  flower  in  desert  sand, 

Once  a  green  isle  of  Fairy-Land. 

Her  frown  chased  sunshine  from  my  day, 

A  rival  bore  the  prize  away ; 


148  YONNONDIO. 

She  spurned  me  with  forbidding  brow; 
That  proud  one  is  my  captive  now !" 

XL. 

He  mused  awhile,  and  thus  resumed  ; 

"  Ha  !   warned  again  that  I  am  doomed, 

That  guilt  hath  fearful  recompense  1 

Off,  juggling  fiend  !  false  demon,  hence  1 

Though  life  be  nearing  fast  the  goal, 

Vengeance  shall  first  appease  my  soul. 

Her  beauty  fires  my  brain  no  more, 

Albeit  'twas  otherwise  of  yore. 

Up,  from  my  heart's  most  secret  cells, 

A  fount  of  bitter  water  wells ; 

Hope  light  it  not,  with  moonlight  beam, 

As  naptha  burns  upon  the  stream  ; 

Its  black  and  troubled  current  knows 

No  quiet  ebb,  but  ever  flows ; 

In  me  the  future  wakes  no  fear — 

A  Hell  of  pain  I  suffer  here, 

And,  when  my  vengeance  is  complete, 

I  pray  this  pulse  may  cease  to  beat ! 

XLI. 

"  Her  sire,  the  Baron  gray  and  old, 
Will  never  more  his  child  behold  ; 
And  yet  he  was  my  patron  erst, 
Taught  me  the  game  of  battle  first, 


THE  RESCUE.  149 

For  better  trump  and  pawing  barb, 

Than  crucifix  and  yriestly  garb  ! 

He  led  me  from  a  hovel  dim, 

The  wine  of  joy  to  quaff  with  him  ; 

But  ever,  in  his  lordly  hall, 

Between  us  interposed  a  wall : 

We  never  met  on  equal  terms, 

Though  both  were  perishable  worms  ; 

Bells  rang  gay  peal  when  lie  was  born— 

In  rags  I  first  beheld  the  morn  ; 

Of  down  his  cradle-couch  was  made — 

On  straw  my  infant  limbs  were  laid  j 

&ut  I  was  proud — nor  could  I  brook, 

At  times,  his  frigid,  stately  look 

That  seemed  to  say — '  forget  not,  boy, 

The  past  in  your  intemperate  joy  !' 

Fool  ! — did  he  deem  me  tutored  hound 

Who  yields  the  quarry  up,  when  found  ] 

A  jackal  who  the  lion  guides 

Where  the  sleek  antelope  abides, 

Enjoying  not  the  fruits  of  toil, 

While  power  appropriates  the  spoil  1 

From  swooping  hawk  may  tear  away 

The  partridge,  and  its  haunt  regain  ; 
Fast  hold  have  eagles  on  their  prey — 

Their  talons  never  clutch  in  vain." 

N2 


150  YONNONDJO, 


XLH. 

The  moon  went  down  : — while  others  slept, 
That  wretched  man  his  station  kept ; 
Eastward  his  blood-shot  eye  he  turned, 
And  sign  of  coming  day  discerned — 
Faint  purple  streaked  night's  azure  arch ; 
"  Up,  and  away  upon  our  march 
We  must  be,  ere  the  sun,"  he  said, 
"  Or  danger  in  our  rear  may  tread !" 

XLIII. 

Low  sounds  crept  on  the  dusky  air, 

Nor  tread  of  wolf — nor  tramp  of  bear  ; 

There  was  a  rustling  'mid  the  trees, 

And  yet  there  was  no  wandering  breeze, 

Noise  as  of  leaf,  or  mouldering  root 

Yielding  beneath  a  cautious  foot. 

Roused  from  his  revery,  he  strove 

To  pierce  the  shadows  of  the  grove  ; 

Once  more  a  half-hushed  trampling  came, 

A  boding  tremor  shook  his  frame ; 

"  Am  I  deceived,  or  scan  aright1? 

Dim  figures  meet  my  line  of  sight — 

Stand  ! — who  goes  there  ?"  he  sharply  cried — 

A  carbine  flashed — a  yell  replied  ! 

Well  done,  bold  cavalier  of  France, 

Deadly  thine  aim,  and  keen  thy  glance ! 


THE  RESCUE.  151 

The  wrongs  of  Blanche,  in  captive  bands, 

Claimed  stern  requital  at  thy  hands  ; 

True  was  that  bullet's  airy  track — 

The  wounded  warrior  staggered  back  ; 

To  shout  defiance  he  essayed, 

But  hoarse  and  hollow  murmur  made. 

A  voice,  once  heard  where  sabres  crossed, 

Its  full,  clear  thunder-tone  had  lost ; 

Numbed  was  an  arm  whose  might  alone, 

Through  serried  ranks,  red  swath  had  mown, 

While  knightly  forms  shrank  back  dismayed 

By  flashes  of  his  fatal  blade. 

XLIV. 

From  leafy  couch  his  Hurons  sprang, 
As  if  each  felt  an  adder's  fang  • 
Their  weapons  grasped  in  disarray, 

While  bounding  from  their  cover  rushed 
Avengers,  panting  for  the  fray, 
Like  some  mad  whirlwind  on  its  way 

When  oak  is  rent  and  rock  is  crushed. 

XLV. 

Fighting  the  battle  of  despair, 

His  tomahawk  the  Black  Fox  swung ; 

And,  quavering  on  the  troubled  air, 
The  war-whoop  of  On-yit-ha  rung. 

Savage  the  conflict  was,  though  brief : — 


152  YONNONDIO. 

Covered  with  gore,  the  Huron  Chief 
Fought,  with  his  back  against  an  oak, 
While  hand  could  deal  the  hatchet-stroke. 
"Well  did  that  hoary  brave  maintain 

Renown  achieved  in  many  a  fight—- 
His fall,  encircled  by  the  slain, 
To  his  thinned  band  was  sign  of  flight. 

XLVI. 

They  scattered,  in  bewildering  fear, 

As  flee  a  broken  herd  of  deer  : 

Foes  that  knew  not  the  word  ' forgive? 

Followed  each  panting  fugitive. 

The  narrow  cape  debarred  retreat; 

Some,  near  the  shore,  to  earth  were  beat  ; 

Others  swam  out  into  the  lake, 

But  Indian  cunning  marked  their  wake  ; 

Like  otters  plunged  they  down  in  vain ; 

The  bubbling  surface  caught  a  stain, 

Unerring  witness  to  the  skill 

Of  marksmen  trained  such  game  to  kill. 

XLVII. 

Through  golden  portals  looked  the  SUN 
On  fragments  of  a  battle  won ; 
Hushed  was  the  frightful  noise  of  route, 
Wild  death-scream,  and  triumphant  shout : 
Quiet  and  calm  the  forest  lord 


THE  RESCUE.  153 

I 

Lay  on  the  dark,  discolored  sward, 
Or  rested  in  wet,  reedy  grave, 

Frighting  far  off  the  screaming  gull, 
The  gallant  scalp-lock  of  the  brave 

Torn  from  each  grim,  denuded  skull : 
The  blue-lipped  wave  stole  up  the  beach, 
Its  red,  polluted  sand  to  bleach  ; 
Breathing  a  low  and  whispered  moan, 
A  sad,  mysterious  undertone, 
As  if  it  bore  a  heart,  and  sighed 
For  those  who  in  that  strife  had  died. 

XL  VIII. 

Thrice  happy,  re-united  pair ! 

Why  paint  the  locked  embrace  of  love  ? 
Enough  that,  from  entangling  snare, 

Flew  to  her  mate  a  sinless  dove  ; 
While,  by  his  own  black  net-work  bound, 
The  wily  fowler  bit  the  ground. 

END    OF    CANTO    FIFTH. 


YONNONDIO. 


CANTO    SIXTH. 

THE  BATTLE. 

Fair  was  the  dawn  of  that  eventful  day, 

By  conflict  ever  memorable  made, 
Between  trained  troops,  who  owned  the  Bourbon's 
sway, 

And  Nature's  dauntless  children  of  the  shade 
Near  Avon's  pleasant  site  : — yon  River  strayed 
Through  a  green,  quiet  landscape,  and  the  light, 

New-born  and  blushing,  on  the  water  played  : 
Nought  token  gave  that  scene  so  hushed  and  bright 
Would  soon  ring  far  and  wide,  with  the  wild  roar 
of  fight. 

Alas  !  man's  heart,  like  the  sequestered  vale, 
Peaceful  at  morn,  that  rahg  ere  noon  with  yell, 

Loud  gun-shot,  charging  cheer  and  dying  wail, 
Is  often  thrilling  to  its  inmost  cell 

With  happiness  one  hour  before  the  bell 

Of  black  misfortune  tolls ;  while  Hope  in  tears 


156  YONNONDIO. 

Breathes,  on  the  troubled  air,  her  sad  farewell, 
And  hollow  Friendship  closely  stops  his  ears 
To  sorrow's  moan,  and  Hate  his  viper-crest  uprears, 


Hemmed  in  by  trees  of  Titan  height, 

In  waveless  rest,  Autaugua  lay, 
While  wavering  gleams  of  rosy  light 

Announced  the  birth  of  day : 
Dawn  flushed  the  mist  that  overspread 
The  waters  in  their  reedy  bed, 
Graving  each  cloud-fold,  thin  and  gray, 
A  radiant  wing  to  flee  away. 
Along  the  low  and  marshy  edge, 
His  neck  outstretched  above  the  sedge, 
Wandered  the  shy  and  lonely  crane, 
Lord  of  a  sombre,  wet  domain  : 
From  muddy  den,  with  flag-leaf  lined, 
The  musk-rat  stole,  repast  to  find  ; 
Wild  pigeons,  early  on  the  wing, 
Woke  overhead  low  thundering — 
Blue,  rearward  columns  mounting  high, 
Scared  by  the  gray  hawk's  greedy  cry. 


n. 


Ruins  of  former  forests  round 
Were  heaped  in  spongy,  mouldering  piles 


THE    BATTLE.  157 

On  which  the  snake  his  coil  unwound, 
Or  charmed  the  bird  by  fatal  wiles  : 

Flapping  of  water-fowl,  the  plunge 

Of  leaping  bass  and  mascalunge ; 

The  blue  kingfisher's  eager  scream, 

Watching  the  wake  of  perch,  or  bream ; 

White  swan,  with  oary  feet  afloat, 

Raising  a  full,  clear  trumpet-note, 

Were  sounds  in  keeping  with  a  view 

As  yet  unchanged  by  axe  and  fire, 

That  wore,  when  earth  was  fresh  and  new, 
The  same  dark,  picturesque  attire. 

in. 

Away,  an  arrow's  flight,  the  Pond, 
Like  subject  dutiful  and  fond, 
The  deep  and  rushing  River  gave 
A  turbid,  tributary  wave. 
Beyond  the  belt  of  wood  that  threw 
On  its  dull  sheet  a  darker  hue, 
Broad,  level  fields  of  tasseled  corn 
Lay  lovely  in  the  light  of  morn  ; 
But  horse  and  foot  were  on  the  march, 
Beneath  the  greenwood's  leafy  arch, 
To  rudely  break,  in  bannered  pride, 
The  quiet  of  that  prospect  wide. 


158  YONNONDIO. 


IT. 

Gaunt  red  men,  in  light  hunting  shirts, 

Stained  like  the  grass  and  leaves  around  them, 
Crouched  in  the  brambly  forest-skirts, 

As  if  a  spell  of  witchcraft  bound  them. 
The  pheasant  scratched,  where  sunshine  warmed 
A  patch  of  forest  earth,  unharmed ; 
The  marmot,  near  his  burrow  deep, 
Played  on  the  sward  with  clumsy  leap ; 
Ungalled,  by  shaft  from  toughened  bow, 
Coursed  on  their  runway  buck  and  doe  ; 
And,  by  Autaugua's  reedy  shores, 

A  brotherhood  of  beavers  wise 
Protruded,  from  their  hovel-doors, 

Brown  furry  heads  with  staring  eyes. 

y. 

For  other  game  those  hunters  true 

Withheld  the  shot  and  loud  halloo  ! 

Abiding  patiently  the  hour 

When  each  might  prove  his  skill  and  power ; 

While  keeping  watch  for  nobler  prey, 

All  dumb  and  motionless  were  they, 

Like  figures  carved  from  granite  gray. 

Time,  when  an  Indian  warrior  lies 

In  ambush,  unregarded  flies : 

Though  morning  lark  and  whipporwil 


THE  BATTLE.  159 

Find  him  a  voiceless  watcher  still, 
Unwearied,  in  their  sockets,  roll 

His  black  and  ever-open  orbs, 
While  the  deep  vortex  of  his  soul 

Alone  one  vengeful  thought  absorbs. 
Though  thirst  oppress,  and  hunger  gnaw, 

Wo  to  the  brave  who  quits  his  post ! 
The  rigid  doom  of  forest  law 
Degrades  him  with  the  name  of  squaw, 

And  Heaven  rejects  his  ghost. 

VI. 

While  under  cover,  thick  and  green, 
Those  hidden  spies  kept  look-out  keen, 
Their  foemen,  with  extended  flank, 
Were  marching  on  the  river-bank. 
The  morning  star  had  seen  them  rise, 
By  bugle  warned,  their  tents  to  strike, 
And  form,  alert  for  high  emprise, 
With  arquebuse  and  bristling  pike : 
Their  trained  battalions,  ere  the  rays 
Of  rising  sun  dispelled  the  haze 
That  wrapped  the  woodland,  leaf  and  limb, 
In  winding  sheet  obscure  and  dim, 

Forded  the  rapid  Hon-e-oye  : 
Dark  allies  hovered  in  advance 
To  guard  the  regulars  of  France 

From  Seneca  decoy. 


160  YONNONDIO. 

There  his  swart  tribe  the  Saukie  led, 
Proud  of  the  hawk-plumes  on  his  head  ; 
There  stalked  the  Huron  armed  to  slay, 

And  cross  upon  his  bosom  bore, 
Taught  by  the  Jesuit  to  pray 

With  hand  imbrued  in  human  gore  ; 
There  was  the  Adumdack  seen, 
Like  his  own  hills  of  iron  mien ; 
Half-naked,  fierce  and  wampum-decked, 
By  marshal  discipline  unchecked, 
The  fleet  Ottawa  glided  there, 
Drest  in  the  spoils  of  wolf  and  bear. 

VII. 

It  must  have  been  a  gallant  show, 
When  sunlight  reached  the  valley  low, 
Made  by  those  well-appointed  troops : 
Their  glancing  arms,  half  seen,  half  hid, 
While  moving,  at  quick  time,  amid 

Tall  trees  in  columned  groups. 
Borne  in  that  host  were  banners  old 
By  veterans  "all  seamed  with  scars," 
With  conquest  written  on  each  fold, 

And  marked  by  shot  of  former  wars : 
Whose  wings  at  Steenkirk,  on  the  blast, 
Had  flapped  when  blood  ran  warm  and  fast ; 
Banners  which  haughtily  had  streamed 
When  Luxemburg  in  armor  gleamed, 


THE  BATTLE.  161 

Leading,  with  trenchant  sabre  drawn, 
The  whirlwind  of  the  battle  on. 

VIII. 

Of  proven  valor  was  the  chief, 

And  worthy  of  the  laurel  leaf, 

Who  led  that  chivalrous  array ; 

His  steed,  adorned  with  harness  bright, 

He  managed  like  a  youthful  knight, 

Although  his  head  was  gray. 
Behind  him  pranced  a  mounted  guard 
Of  men  at  arms,  with  visors  barred — 
Beneath  him,  in  command  alone, 
Rode  a  tall  warrior  by  his  side ; 
And  much  of  trouble  had  he  known, 
Unless  soured  look,  and  cheerless  tone, 

The  heart  within  belied. 
A  few  stray  locks  of  glistening  snow 

Fell  his  bruised  morion  below, 
But  wintry  age  had  left  untamed 
An  eye,  at  times,  that  fiercely  flamed  ; 
And  though  his  leader  on  parade 
Would  nobler  chevalier  have  made, 

Still  his  broad  chest  and  martial  front, 

Bronzed  o'er  by  toil,  and  weather-stain, 

Told  plainly  that  it  was  his  wont 

To  bide  the  roaring  onset's  brunt 

Upon  the  battle-plain. 
o2 


162  YONNONDIO. 


XI. 

"  Twice,  Baron,  lias  the  tedious  night 

Been  reddened  by  our  watch-fires  bright ; 

Twice  has  the  morning  sunbeam  found 

Our  force  afoot  on  hostile  ground, 

And  nothing  in  the  shape  of  foe 

Has  brandished  axe,  or  bended  bow" — 

Murmured  De  Nonville,  in  disdain, 

Stroking  his  courser's  flowing  mane. 

"  The  rich,  green  forests  of  a  land, 

So  beautiful  on  every  hand, 

Diversified  by  upland-swell, 

Bright  leaping  rill,  and  flowery  dell ; 

Another  race,  methought,  possessed 

Than  these  dark  Senecas,  misnamed 

The  tawny  Romans  of  the  west!" — 

The  stern,  old  warrior  exclaimed. 

x. 

11  Curse  that  false  Jesuit" — rejoined 
The  fiery  Marquis — "  who  has  coined 
A  lying  tale  for  knightly  ears 

Of  On-gui-hon-wi  pride  and  power  ! 
Their  hunting-grounds  a  Frank  might  scour, 
And  find  no  foe  in  wood  or  bower, 
Though  marked  was  every  leaf  and  flower 


THE  BATTLE.  163 

With  one  good  plump  of  spears." 
"  I  marvel  what  detains  De  Lisle, 
That  man  half-soldier,  and  half-priest ! 
He  comes  not,  and  the  sun,  meanwhile, 

Looks  from  his  watch-tower  in  the  east. 
My  orders  were,  ere  break  of  day, 
That  back  he  should  retrace  his  way, 
And  at  head-quarters  make  report 
Of  trail  the  most  direct,  whereby 
Our  vanguard  might  surprise  a  Fort 

The  Big-Bend  of  yon  river  nigh. 

XI. 

"Attended,  or  alone  to  scout 
Forth  went  he  in  our  line  of  route  1" 
"  Through  fear  of  ambuscade  at  hand, 
With  him  he  took,  by  my  command, 
The  crafty  Black  Fox  and  his  band" — 
Answered  the  Baron,  while  a  cloud 
Darkened  the  brow  it  overspread 
In  furrows  by  affliction  ploughed, 
And  with  a  stifled  groan  he  bowed, 

In  agonizing  thought,  his  head. 
Ah  !   wildly  were  his  heart-strings  torn  ! 
Hope  had  he  cherished  on  that  morn 
To  look  upon  the  lost  restored — 
His  fair-haired  Blanche,  the  long-deplored  ! 
Last  scion  of  an  honored  race, 


164  YONNONDIO. 

And  once  more  in  her  features  trace 
A  transcript  of  that  mother's  face 
Who  died  in  giving1  birth  to  her, 
Whose  dwelling  was  the  sepulchre. 

XII. 

Promise  the  Jesuit  had  made, 
With  hand  on  cross  devoutly  laid, 
To  die,  or  with  his  child  return 
Ere  morning  dried  Night's  dewy  urn  : 
That  hour  was  passed  : — -why  tarried  he  1 
Nought  save  low  breeze,  and  rustling  tree, 
Dull,  measured  tramp  of  column  long, 
Loud  oath,  rude  jest,  and  losel  song, 
Clangor  of  mail,  and  sabre's  ring 
Replied  to  his  self-questioning. 

XIII. 

When  the  long  line,  from  forest  gray, 
Debouched  in  glittering  array, 
And,  with  a  lighter  movement,  trod 
Green  floors  of  fresh,  unshadowed  sod, 
Stretching  away  to  groves  unhewn 
Autaugua  round,  that  dark  Lagoon ! 
Well  might  their  general  declare, 
Eye  never  looked  on  vale  more  fair. 
Wind  wafted  fragrance,  and  his  steed 
Sank,  fetlock-deep,  in  beds  of  flowers ; 


THE  BATTLE.  165 

Brooks  wimpled  by,  in  playful  speed, 
And  ancient  pines  beyond  the  mead, 
Reared  their  dark,  emerald  towers. 


XIY. 

"  By  Jesuit  though  falsely  told, 

Broad  valley !  that  thy  sons  were  bold, 

A  truth  was  uttered  when  he  said 

Thy  breast  an  Eden  lay  outspread — 

That  spoken  word  would  ill  express 

Thy  pure,  primeval  loveliness  ! 

Here,  should  the  lilies  o'er  the  brave 

Float  while  yon  river  rolls  a  wave — 

Here,  knees  in  homage  should  be  bent 

To  Louis,  the  magnificent ! 

In  spite  of  armies  hither  led, 

Bearing  aloft  the  Cross  of  Red, 

Though  howled,  like  wolves  upon  the  track, 

The  Five  Leagued  Nations  at  their  back!" 

Thus,  curbing  in  his  war-horse  fleet, 

While  his  heroic  soul  was  tuned 
To  rapture  by  that  vision  sweet, 

De  Nonville  with  himself  communed. 

xv. 

In  forest  warfare  better  taught, 
A  shaded  trail  his  allies  sought, 
Where  twilight  held  unquestioned  reign, 


166  YONNONDIO. 

Avoiding  flat,  and  open  plain. 
Limber  in  motion  as  the  snake, 

Oft  would  some  scout  thick-top  of  tree 
His  screened  observatory  make, 

And  look  forth,  long  and  patiently. 
No  object  round  was  too  minute 
For  their  keen,  critical  survey  ; 
Their  organs,  practiced  and  acute, 
Marked  grassy  blade  and  waving  spray  ; 
Each  starry  moss-tuft  on  the  stone, 
Each  leaf  about  by  air-gust  blown. 
Cautious  their  progress  was,  and  slow, 
Hunting  for  sign  of  hidden  foe  ; 
Heeding  the  squirrel's  frolic  bark, 
The  wood- worm's  tick,  in  crevice  dark, 
Or  close  to  earth  applying  ear, 
Better  some  far-off  sound  to  hear. 

Southward  the  gleaming  ranks  moved  on 
Across  a  flower-enamelled  lawn, 
Their  weapons  flashing  in  the  light, 
Dark  Genesee  upon  their  right, 
Gliding  along,  with  even  flow, 
To  join  the  blue  Ontario. 
Distant  a  crow's  flight,  darkly  towered, 
Upon  the  left,  a  ridge  of  hills, 


THE   BATTLE.  167 

In  waving  groves  of  oak  embowered, 

And  musical  with  birds  and  rills. 
At  times  the  soldier  looked  around, 
Thinking  he  trod  on  pasture-ground, 
Or  clearing  by  the  woodman  made 
Within  a  fresh,  young  land  of  shade  : 
No  cottage-home  met  his  regard, 
Nor  blackened  stump,  nor  log-heap  charred ; 
There,  never  had  the  scythe  been  swung — 
There,  sharpened  axe  had  never  rung, 
Sleek  heifer  lowed,  or  milk-maid  sung  ! 
A  place  of  bloom  and  smiles  it  lay, 
Nature's  free  gift  to  golden  day. 

XVII. 

Facing  the  west  each  cohort  wheeled 
When  near  the  borders  of  the  pond, 
While  a  dark  wall  of  wood  concealed 

All  objects  that  might  lie  beyond  ; 
Before  them,  in  the  sunshine's  blaze, 
Basked  flaunting  rows  of  glossy  maize, 
Bearing,  upon  their  emerald  spears, 
A  heavy  load  of  infant  ears  ; 
While  podded  bean,  and  melon  vine, 
Sated  with  draughts  of  dewy  wine, 

Clothed  in  gay  garniture  the  mould ; 
But  wasting  War  turned  not  aside, 
And  through  that  rich  plantation  rolled 


168  YONNONDIO. 

His  stern  and  desolating  tide — 
Germs  of  abundance  blotting  out, 
And  blasting  greenness  in  his  route. 

XVIII. 

When  a  dark,  hollow  way  was  gained, 

Bed  of  a  stream  for  ages  drained, 

De  Nonville,  riding  in  the  van, 

Made  momentary  halt  to  scan, 

On  an  elm-trunk,  of  bark  bereft, 

The  pictured  outlines  of  a  man 

Transfixed  by  dart,  by  hatchet  cleft. 

"  Ho  !  Lamberville  !"  the  Marquis  cried, 

Accosting  an  experienced  guide — 

"  The  meaning  of  this  daub  explain, 

For  new  and  fresh  appears  the  stain  !" 

XIX. 

"Yon  sketch  conveys  monition  stern 
That  blood  will  flow,  and  powder  burn, 
Unless  our  trumpets  sound  return  ; — 
Is  warning  to  invader  given, 

That  never  will  the  native  fierce 
From  his  old  hunting-ground  be  driven, 

While  arm  can  strike,  and  weapon  pierce  ! 
His  tribe  have  laid  a  deadly  snare, 
And  near  us  lie  in  bushy  lair ; 
The  red  confederates  of  France, 


THE  BATTLE.  169 

That  lately  hovered  in  advance, 
Are  gliding  swiftly  back,  in  fear, 
To  gain  a  cover  in  our  rear  : 
My  counsel,  governor,  would  be 

From  thicket-edge  to  keep  away, 
And,  westward,  near  the  Genesee, 

Our  line  of  march  at  once  to  lay  !" 


"  The  Senecas,  by  arts  like  these, 
Blood  in  a  Huron-heart  may  freeze  ; 
But  warrior  who  has  braved  the  fight 
On  fields  where  knight  encountered  knight, 
Would  ill  his  belt  and  spurs  deserve, 
One  inch  in  his  career  to  swerve, 
Though  every  tree,  in  forest  blind, 
A  savage  hid  its  trunk  behind." 

XXI. 

The  headmost  of  the  line  at  last 
Autaugua's  narrow  outlet  passed  ; 
But  while  they  forced,  in  disarray, 
Through  hazel  underbrush  their  way, 
From  earth  grim,  crouching  figures  rose, 
Like  mountain-cats  prepared  to  spring, 

Counting  the  number  of  their  foes, 
With  shafts  notched  lightly  on  the  string ; 

They  cowered  for  one  brief  moment  there, 
p 


170  YONNONDIO. 

But,  ere  the  next  flew  swiftly  by, 
Rang  out  upon  the  throbbing  air, 

Their  wild  and  startling  battle-cry  : 
Bard  hath  no  power  to  picture  well 
The  might  of  that  demoniac  yell ;  t 
Back,  back  recoiled  the  valiant  then, 
And  felt  the  frozen  hand  of  fear 
Knock  at  their  hearts,  as  if  a  den, 
By  lions  watched,  lay  yawning  near ! 
Then  whirling  swiftly  round  and  round, 

While  a  winged  storm  of  arrows  flew, 
A  pathway  red  the  hatchet  found, 

Barred  morion  and  hanberk  through. 

XXII. 

Distinguished  by  his  snow-white  crest, 
De  Nonville,  calm  and  self-posse st, 
Gave,  amid  uproar  wild  and  high, 
Command  with  martial  brevity  : 
His  presence  discipline  restored, 
He  formed  the  broken  ranks  again — 
Flashed,  in  the  staggering  van,  his  sword, 
While  reared  his  horse  by  missile  gored, 
And  men  at  arms  were  round  him  slain. 
"  Dismount,  dismount,  Le  Troye  !  and  break 
Their  cover  with  my  Rangers  through  ; 
Let  the  long  rifle  music  make, 
In  answer  to  this  yelping  crew  !" 


THE  BATTLE.  171 


XXIII. 

From  his  war-saddle  to  the  ground, 

Leaped  the  gray  veteran  with  a  bound, 

While  rattled  sharply  on  his  mail, 

Rough,  flinty  arrow-heads  like  hail, 

And  forward,  with  elastic  tread, 

Promptly  the  charging  party  led. 

Bold  was  the  rush,  and  sternly  met 

By  natives  never  daunted  yet ; 

Loudly  mad  whoop  and  rifle-crack 

By  forest-arch  were  echoed  back : 

The  ponderous  war-club's  weighty  stroke, 

Clubbed  gun-stocks  into  pieces  broke, 

And,  blunted  in  its  swift  career, 

On  breastplate  rang  the  point  of  spear. 

Frank,  and  the  son  of  hunter-race, 

Breast  to  breast,  and  face  to  face, 

Grappled  in  desperate  embrace  ; 

And  fast  the  dinted  forest-floor 

Grew  red  and  slippery  with  gore. 

XXIV. 

Awhile  the  Senecas  maintained, 
Combatting  hand  to  hand,  their  ground ; 
Then  a  reluctant  flight  they  feigned 
On  a  dim  trail  that  southward  wound. 
Darting  about,  from  tree  to  tree, 


172  YONNONDIO. 

With  panther-like  agility, 
Well-aimed  discharges  of  their  bows 
Annoyed  their  hot  pursuing  foes, 
Whose  rapid  volleys,  in  return, 
Wounded  alone  the  brush  and  fern. 


XXV. 


Soon  did  the  scene  of  conflict  change 
From  open-wood  to  deeper  shade, 
Where,  piled  up  in  confusion  strange, 
Lay  mouldering  elm  and  oak  decayed ; 
At  once  the  hoary  knight  foresaw 
That  a  dark  plot  had  been  designed, 
By  wily  enemies,  to  draw 
His  corps  into  ambushment  blind, 
Where  craft,  not  valor,  would  avail, 
And  fire-lock  prove  protection  frail. 
"  Halt !  my  brave  comrades,  one  and  all ; 
De  Nonville's  bugles'  sound  recall !" 

Shouted  the  Baron  out,  in  vain : 
Like  blood-hounds  who  had  tasted  gore, 
And  bayed  upon  the  track  for  more, 

His  men  dashed  on  amain. 

XXVI. 

. 

Obstructions  thickened  in  their  way, 

And  momently  the  light  of  day, 

As  they  advanced,  grew  less  and  less, 


THE  BATTLE.  173 

Within  that  hideous  wilderness  : 
Their  progress  difficult  and  slow 
Was  often  made  by  quagmire  low, 
That  weight  of  frog  could  scarcely  bear, 
Dotted  with  grass-tufts,  coarse  and  spare, 
Unstirr'd  by  breeze,  an  awning  spread, 
Dismal  and  shaggy  overhead, 

That  woven  seemed  in  midnight's  loom  ; 
But  floundered,  on  the  Rangers  rash, 
Vexed  and  bewildered,  while  the  flash 

Of  ringing  rifles  lit  the  gloom. 

XXVII. 

Fruitless  their  toil ! — unharmed  by  lead, 
Their  taunting  foes  before  them  fled  ; 
And  thrill  of  disappointment  passed 
Through  many  a  rough  and  war-worn  frame, 
When  gaunt,  retiring  forms  at  last, 
Brown  shadows  closing  round  them  fast, 
Confused  and  indistinct  became. 
Tumultuous  sounds  of  flight  and  chase 
Ceased  for  a  time  in  thicket  wild, 
As  if  the  Spirit  of  the  Place 
Awed  fiery  Frank  and  forest-child. 

XXVIII. 

When  paused  his  party,  breath  to  take, 
After  long  chase  through  brush  and  brake, 


174  YONNONDIO. 

Fatigue  and  wounds  the  bitter  fruit 

Of  mad,  disorderly  pursuit, 

Le  Troye  another  trial  made 

To  lead  them  back  to  open  glade, 

And  felt,  in  labyrinthine  shade, 

Like  mariner,  his  compass  lost, 

On  unknown  sea  befogged  and  tost, 

Far  from  safe  port  and  friendly  shore, 
While  evil  bark  that  lured  him  thither,, 
Gliding  away  he  knew  not  whitherx 

Displayed  black  flag  no  more. 

XXIX. 

No  well-worn  wood-path  was  in  sight 

To  guide  his  soldiery  aright; 

And  sharply  he  rebuked  his  band 

WTio  followed  up  a  wily  foe 

In  disregard  of  loud  command 

No  farther  in  advance  to  go, 

"  As  well  might  hunter  try  to  bring 

Falcon  at  bay  upon  the  wing, 

As  Christian  troops,  in  forest  haunt, 

Wage  warfare  with  the  savage  gaunt!" 

He  muttered,  looking  round  to  find 

Outlet  from  swamp  obscure  and  blind. 


THE  BATTLE.  175 

- 

XXX, 

Caparisoned,  from  head  to  heel, 
In  corslet,  greaves  and  cap  of  steel — • 
Encumbered  by  a  gorgeous  dress 
That  ill  beseemed  a  wilderness, 
Struggled  the  party  to  retrace 
Their  way  from  that  benighted  place 

Chilled  by  the  grove's  eternal  frown  : 
Their  feet,  encased  in  heavy  boots, 
Stumbled  among  ensnaring  roots, 

Or  in  the  bog  plunged  down  : 
At  random  thus  they  fared,  until 
They  reached  a  lazy,  winding  rill 
Near  its  dull  junction  with  a  pool 
Whose  dark  expanse  lay  hushed  and  cool, 
When  suddenly,  with  bended  bows, 
A  cloud  of  savages  arose, 
Attacking  them  in  rear  and  front, 
Howling  like  wood-wolves  when  they  hunt 
Through  wintry  wastes,  a  grisly  gang, 
Bitten  by  hunger's  pointed  fang. 

XXXI. 

A  hurtling  stream  of  feathered  darts 
Riddled  fair  forms  and  gallant  hearts ; 
Well  might  the  boldest  feel  dismay  ! 
Swept  were  the  leading  files  away 


176  YONNONDIO. 

Like  the  round  prairie's  herbage  dry 

Before  a  flame  when  winds  are  high  ! 

By  menace  and  entreating  word, 

Above  the  roar  of  battle  heard, 

Rallied  the  knight  his  flying  troops, 

Broken  in  panic-stricken  groups. 

Though  blanched  his  hair,  from  casque  escaped, 

And  thinn'd  by  Time's  unsparing  shears, 

His  frame,  for  martial  prowess  shaped, 

Retained  the  might  of  other  years  ; 

His  flashing  eye  and  lifted  arm, 

In  that  dread  crisis  of  alarm, 

A  knightly  scorn  of  fear  revealed 
Worthy  of  Bayard  when  he  met, 
By  overwhelming  odds  beset, 

Death  on  his  last  red  field. 

XXXII. 

He  charged,  to  break  the  hostile  ring 
His  serried  ranks  encompassing, 

Thrice,  with  a  cheer,  in  vain ; 
Five  hundred  bows  the  shaft  propelled, 
Five  hundred  throats  the  war-cry  yelled, 
And,  one  by  one,  the  knight  beheld 

His  ill-starred  Rangers  slain. 


THE  BATTLE.  177 


XXXIII. 

Warned  by  a  runner  of  his  band 
That  Yonnondio  was  at  hand, 
Speeding  with  Indian  guides,  to  aid 
His  brethren  trapped  in  ambuscade, 
Old  Can-ne-hoot,  by  loud  halloo, 
A  knot  of  braves  around  him  drew, 
Resolved  that  tomahawk  and  knife 
Should  end  at  once  the  desperate  strife  ; 
Prompt  the  dread  movement  to  discern, 
Exclaimed  the  Knight,  in  accent  stern — 
"  My  lads,  prepare  their  rush  to  meet, 
And,  mark  ye,  there  is  no  retreat ! 
Throw  not  an  ounce  of  lead  away — 
God  and  St.  Dennis  be  our  stay  !" 

XXXIV. 

There  was  a  momentary  hush ; 
Then,  giving  cry  like  unleashed  hounds, 
Dashed  forward,  with  impetuous  rush, 
Wild  warriors  clearing  brake  and  bush, 

In  quick,  elastic  bounds : 
Guns,  levelled  with  destructive  aim, 
Poured  forth  a  crimson  sheet  of  flame, 
Ringing,  in  one  explosion  loud, 
The  knell  of  many  a  warrior  proud ; 
But  staunch  survivors  faltered  not, 


178  YONNONDIO. 

While  round  them  hissed  the  raking  shot, 
Old  Can-ne-hoot,  their  forest-king, 
Through  sulphurous  vapor  following. 

XXXV. 

As  avalanche,  from  mountain-head 
Descending  with  resistless  force, 
Upwrenches  from  primeval  bed 

Huge  blocks  of  granite  in  its  course ; 
As  freshet,  swollen  in  its  flow 
By  heavy  rain,  dissolving  snow, 
Against  a  bridge  of  massive  arch, 
Too  frail  for  its  restrainless  march, 
Dashing  in  thunder  and  in  spray, 
Timber  and  buttress  tears  away, 
Thus  back  that  Indian  onslaught  bore 
Crushed  phalanx  that  could  form  no  more. 
Followed  a  diabolic  yell 
When  foeman,  brained  by  hatchet,  fell  ; 
Though  the  poor,  mangled  wretch  yet  breathed, 
Dark  fingers,  in  his  hair  enwreathed, 
Secured,  by  aid  of  teeth  and  knife, 
Grim,  reddened  trophies  of  the  strife. 

XXXVI. 

A  gallant  remnant  of  the  Franks, 

Though  shattered  and  o'erthrown  their  ranks, 

Fought,  fearfully  outnumbered,  on, 


THE  BATTLE.  179 

And  buffet  dealt  with  arms  of  brawn 
Encircled  by  a  howling  crew ; 
His  armor  hacked,  with  blood-drops  wet, 
A  leader's  voice  and  presence  yet 

Cheered  that  devoted  few. 
Enraged  to  see  his  boldest  braves 
Recoil  like  spent  and  broken  waves 
Encountered  by  an  iron  strand, 
Old  Can-ne-hoot,  his  scalp-lock  white 
Dancing  in  air,  upon  the  knight 

Rushed,  tomahawk  in  hand. 

XXXVII. 

Though  partly  parried  was  the  blow, 
Its  force  unhelmed  his  stalwart  foe, 
Whose  eye  flashed  lightning,  while  his  blade 
Wounded  with  every  pass  it  made. 
Equal  in  years — in  height  the  same, 
Both  known  by  martial  deed  to  fame, 
Fought,  with  youth's  ardor  uncontroll'd, 
Stroke  answering  stroke — those  warriors  old. 
Unblenching,  though  in  copious  tide 
Oozed  the  dark  gore  from  gashes  wide, 
The  Sachem,  naked  to  the  waist, 
His  mail-sheathed  adversary  faced. 


180  YONNONDIO. 

XXXVIII. 

His  glance  more  deadly  and  malign 
Grew  while  he  felt  his  strength  decline — 
More  proud  a  spirit  in  which  burned 
Impulse  that  fear  and  mercy  spurned; 
Regardless  of  unequal  fight, 

His  long  leg-knife  he  drew, 
When  the  sharp  weapon  of  the  knight 
Descending,  clove  the  handle  light 

Of  his  war-axe  in  two. 
Not  fleeter  pouncing  eagle  flies 
To  rob  the  fish-hawk  of  his  prize  ; 
Shark,  scenting  a  repast  of  blood, 
Not  swifter  hurries  through  the  flood, 
Than,  dodging  death-blow,  by  the  wrist 
Seized  he  his  dread  antagonist, 
Whose  left  arm  free,  a  pistol  press'd 
Against  the  maddened  Indian's  breast: 
A  bright  flash  heralded  the  ball — 
One  moment  stood,  erect  and  tall, 
Old  Can-ne-hoot — the  next,  he  fell, 
His  frowning  brow  still  terrible ; 
Low  was  a  mighty  Sachem  brought — 
His  last  fight  had  a  brave  man  fought ! 

XXXIX. 

Have  ye  not  seen,  on  Western  plain, 
When  leader,  shagg'd  and  old,  is  slain, 


THE  BATTLE.  181 

With  angry  roaring  on  their  foes, 
Gallop  a  herd  of  buffaloes ; 
Huge  forms  in  front,  unstaid  by  fear, 
Pushed  onward  by  the  frantic  rear  j 
Their  eyes,  while  horns  tossed  high  in  air, 
Glowing  like  coals  through  matted  hair  *? 
Impelled  by  wrath  more  frightful  far, 
Waking  the  wildest  howl  of  war — 
To  higher  pitch  of  frenzy  fired, 
When,  grasping  knife,  their  Chief  expired, 
Avenging  sons  of  forest  brown, 
To  earth,  in  one  dread  rush,  bore  down 
Their  foemen  few  and  tired. 

XL. 

De  Nonville,  from  a  fearful  doom, 
Too  late  arrived  his  van  to  save  ; 
Strewed  was  a  place  of  blood  and  gloom 
With  shattered  gun  and  tarnished  plume, 

Cleft  helm  and  broken  glaive. 
The  natives  raised  retreat-halloo  ! 
When,  sounding  charge,  his  bugle  blew, 
Just  finished  their  employment  dread 
Of  scalping  the  disfigured  dead. 
Ah  !  well  might  that  revolting  scene 
Give  paleness  to  his  troubled  mien  f 
Where  were  his  gallant  rifle-corps 
Who  mustered,  full  of  life,  at  morn  1 
Q 


182  YONNONDIO. 

High  would  their  pulses  beat  no  more 
When  banner  waved  and  blade  was  drawn  ! 
All — all  had  died  save  leader  gray, 
A  pinioned  captive  borne  away, 
Reserved  for  torture  at  the  stake 
By  tribesmen,  filled  with  rage  and  grief, 
That  glad  the  wandering  ghost  would  make 
Of  Can  ne-hoot,  their  fallen  Chief. 

XLI. 

Galled  by  the  sting  of  wounded  pride — 
By  dark  disaster  mortified, 
The  baffled  Marquis  offered  gold 
For  Iroquois  scalps  in  vain ; 
Cowed  were  his  allies  to  behold, 
Their  couch  the  swamp's  defiling  mould, 
Hacked  forms  of  Frenchmen  slain  : — 
Boughs  bending  o'er  them,  sad  of  hue, 
As  if  old  elms  around  that  grew 
Dropped  down  a  melancholy  pall, 
And  mourned,  though  mute,  their  timeless  fall. 

END    OP    CANTO    SIXTH. 


1 

rr  JONNONDIO. 


CANTO    SEVENTH. 


THE  REVELATION. 

They  bound  him  to  the  fatal  stake,  and  high 

Destruction's  fagots  round  the  warrior  piled  : 
There  was  unwonted  moisture  in  his  eye, 

For  prayed  he,  in  that  moment,  for  his  child ; 
A  torch  was  thrown,  by  hand  with  blood  denied, 
On  the  dark  death-pyre  : — whence,  oh  whence  the 

shriek 

That,  rising  shrill  above  the  tumult  wild, 
Tinged  with  a  wanner  shade  the  victim's  cheek, 
While  parted  his  blanched  lips  in  vain  essay  to  speak ! 


Retreating  from  the  fatal  spot 
Where  Valor  died  but  yielded  not, 
Thickly  the  Senecas  o'erspread, 


184  YONNONDIO. 

With  hiding  brush  and  leaves,  their  dead : — 
For  sorrowing  would  warrior  go, 
Dishonored  by  the  knife  of  foe, 
To  lands  the  setting  sun  below. 
When  reached  the  river's  willowed  side 
Pirogues  they  launched  upon  the  tide, 
And,  landing  on  the  western  shore, 
A  moment  looked  the  landscape  o'er. 
The  matted  forest-depths  were  mute ; 
Heard  was  no  larum  on  the  gale, 
Announcing  Frank  in  close  pursuit, 
Or  hated  Huron  on  the  trail. 
Checked  by  the  Romans  of  the  West, 
Invader  paused,  with  drooping  crest, 
To  scoop  for  brethren  where  they  fell 
In  earth  a  rude  receptacle : 
Knowing  that  scream  of  carrion-bird 
Another  day  would  there  be  heard, 
While  snarling  monster  of  the  wold 
Snuffed  tainted  air,  and  pawed  the  mould. 

n. 

Thou  phantom,  Military  Fame  ! 
How  long  will  Genius  laud  thy  name, 
And  curtain  features  from  the  sight 
More  foul  than  those  Khorassen's  seer 
Hid  behind  veil  of  silver  bright, 
Tempting  his  victim  to  draw  near  ! 


THE  REVELATION.  185 

How  long  will  thy  misleading  lamp, 
Through  regions  wrapped  in  smoke  and  fire, 
To  slaughter's  cavern,  red  and  damp, 
Guide  beardless  boy  and  gray -haired  sire  ] 
Up,  fearless  battlers  for  the  right, 
And  flood  old  groaning  earth  with  light! 
Bid  nations  ponder  well  and  pause 
When  blade  corrupt  ambition  draws — 
Oh  !  teach  the  world  that  conquest  wears 
A  darker  brand  than  felon  bears  ; 
Prolific  fount,  from  earliest  time, 
Of  murder,  orphanage  and  crime  ! 

HI. 

Obtained,  at  last,  returning  band 

A  view  of  fortress,  rudely  plann'd, 

Fenced  by  huge  palisadoes  round, 

And  wanting  bastion,  trench  and  mound. 

Its  anxious  inmates,  wild  of  face, 

Rushed  in  a  body  from  the  place, 

While  rose,  from  forest  edge,  a  cry, 

Now  plaintive,  low — now  shrill  and  high — 

Each  repetition  of  the  call 

Announcing  an  invader's  fall. 

News  thus,  to  children  of  the  shade, 

By  marked,  expressive  sound  conveyed, 

Telling  of  victory  achieved, 

All,  with  a  frantic  joy,  received ; 
Q2 


186  YONNONDIO. 

And  hurried  on  to  meet,  the  while, 
Plumed  martial  forms  in  Indian  file, 
Advancing  : — slow  and  dignified 
Their  march  across  the  clearing  wide. 

IT. 

Red  pole  in  front  a  savage  bore, 

On  which  hung  scalps  begrimmed  with  gore ; 

Behind  him  came  the  captive  knight, 

Wounded,  and  stripped  of  armor  bright— 

His  figure  of  heroic  mould 

Fixing  regard  of  young  and  old, 

Who  augured,  from  his  dauntless  air, 

That  torture  he  would  bravely  bear, 

And,  as  beseemed  a  warrior,  die 

Giving  no  groan  of  agony, 

v. 

Changed  was  wild  ecstacy  to  grief, 

When,  looking  vainly  for  their  chief, 

Ran  glances  of  the  troubled  throng, 

From  man  to  man,  the  line  alpng. 

A  melancholy  wail  and  low 

Told  of  a  leader's  overthrow  ; 

To  hollow  dirge  notes  for  the  dead 

The  long  procession  timed  its  tread, 

For  lord  had  Can-ne-wa-gus  lost, 

And  mourning  tribe,  from  child  to  seer, 


THE  REVELATION.  187 

Deemed  triumph  bought  at  fearful  cost 
Marred  by  the  fall  of  one  so  dear. 

VI. 

Passed  was  the  middle  hour  of  day, 
Down  poured  the  sun  a  milder  ray, 
When  elders  of  the  tribe  convened, 

To  fix  the  doom  of  captive  brave, 
Beneath  old  oaks  whose  umbrage  screened 

Partly  from  sight  the  council  grave. 
From  long-stemmed  pipes  rose  fragrant  fumes, 
And  curled  around  their  eagle  plumes ; 
Awhile  impressive  silence  reigned, 
And  sitting  posture  each  maintained. 
Men  of  inferior  renown 
Formed  outer  ring  of  faces  brown, 
And  near,  life  giving  to  the  scene, 
Dark  beldame  of  malignant  mien, 
And  stripling,  armed  with  tiny  bow, 
On  noiseless  feet  moved  to  and  fro, 
A  better  view  of  Frank  to  gain 
Who  mighty  Can-ne-hoot  had  slain. 

VII. 

At  length  a  man  of  many  snows, 
A  forest  patriarch,  arose  ; 
Bright  medal  on  his  bosom  shone, 
And  richly  broidered  was  his  zone ; 


188  YONNONDIO. 

Closely  he  drew  his  robe  of  skin 
Around  a  shrunken  frame  and  thin, 
Then  thus  harangued  his  brethren  sage 
In  the  cracked,  trembling  tones  of  age. 
"  Heirs  of  a  country,  green  and  wide, 
O'erran  and  conquered  by  your  sires, 
In  vain  hath  Yonnondio  tried 
To  quench,  in  war's  ensanguined  tide, 

One  of  the  Five  Great  Fires  ! 
Its  smoke-clouds  rising,  thick  and  high, 
Have  filled  with  tears  his  blinded  eye  ; 
Its  angry  blaze  his  hand  hath  burned — 

The  hatchets  of  my  tribe  are  red — 
But  home  the  chief  hath  not  returned 
Who  Yonnondio's  fury  spurned, 

And  forth  the  brave  to  battle  led," 

VIII. 

"  At  morn,  upon  the  dew- webbed  glade, 
His  moccason  no  impress  made  ; 
Swifter  than  eagles  were  his  feet — 
Who  could  in  craft  with  him  compete  ? 
His  voice  was  deeper  in  its  tone 
Than  trumpet  by  the  storm-king  blown, 
And  his  dread  arm  no  second  blow 
In  battle  gave  opposing  foe. 
By  lightning  of  the  Pale -Face  slain, 
Alone  let  not  the  Mighty  stray, 


THE  REVELATION.  189 

Across  a  wide  and  dreary  plain, 

Toward  the  Green  Isles  of  endless  day. 

I  hear  his  whisper  on  the  gale — 

He  calls  upon  yon  captive  pale 
The  briars  from  his  path  to  clear  : 

Men  of  Ge-nun-de-wah,  awake  ! 

And  high,  around  the  blackened  stake, 
The  funeral-pile  uprear  !" 

IX. 

To  interjections  of  assent 
Gave  his  dark  auditory  vent 

While  the  time-honored  prophet  spoke  ; 
And  when,  with  flashing  eye,  they  heard 
Die  on  the  breeze  his  closing  word, 

The  ring  its  order  broke : 
A  tribe's  united  lips  poured  out 
One  frightful  and  revengeful  shout — 
Hags  laughed,  and  clapped  their  skinny  hands 
Till  rattled  loud  their  bracelet-bands  ; 
In  side-long  dance  like  demons  yelled, 
Startling  and  mystic  orgies  held, 
And  sentenced  prisoner  abused, 
To  every  term  of  insult  used. 

x. 

They  told  him  that  his  nation  base 
Were  whiter  far  of  heart  than  face — 


190  YONNOND10. 

That  petticoat,  not,  warrior's  crest 

And  costume,  would  beseem  him  best, 

And  squaw,  that  gave  him  birth,  did  style 

The  mother  of  a  coward  vile. 

Mid  taunting  screams  of  fierce  delight, 

Tribesmen  for  cruelty  renowned, 

And  decked  with  spoils  of  recent  fight, 

To  painted  post  the  Christian  knight 

With  toughened  ligature  then  bound. 

Tormentors  drew  his  foot  upon 

The  fatal  bear-skin  moccason; 

And  flaming  torch  placed  o'er  his  head, 

An  emblem  sure  of  fiery  doom, 

On  his  white  hair  a  radiance  shed, 

And  lit  the  wild-wood's  leafy  gloom. 

XI. 

No  vain  appeal  for  life  he  made — 

From  arm  of  flesh  hoped  not  for  aid ; 

A  glance,  that  seemed  to  say  *  adieu  /' 

On  sublunary  things  he  threw, 

And  strove,  with  mind  composed,  to  meet 

A  fate  with  agony  replete. 

He  longed,  in  that  dark  trial-hour, 

On  Blanche,  his  erring  child,  to  gaze 

Ere  while  his  fondly  cherished  flower, 

And  light  of  his  declining  days  ; 

He  yearned  upon  her  head  to  pour 


THE  REVELATION.  191 

A  father's  benison  once  more, 

And  hear  his  name  pronounced  in  tone, 

Gentle  and  low — Tier  mother's  own. 

XII. 

Pine  splinters,  resinous  and  dry, 

Light  brush,  and  sere  leaves  of  the  wild, 

A  death-pyre  forming  loose  and  high, 

Round  the  brave  veteran  were  piled, 

And  redly  shone  a  crackling  brand, 

To  light  it,  in  the  Prophet's  hand  ; 

But,  ere  the  smoking  fuel  blazed, 

Heard  was  the  marked,  peculiar  cry 

By  Indian  warrior  ever  raised 

When  camp-ground  of  his  nation  nigh. 

Arrested  by  that  signal  loud 

Was  torture's  work ; — and  on  the  crowd 

A  momentary  silence  fell ; — 

Then  rose  a  shrill,  responsive  yell 

As  all  imperfectly  descried, 

Through  net-work  of  the  leaves,  at  last, 

De  Grai  and  his  recovered  bride, 

Young  Wun-nut-hay,  the  greenwood's  pride, 

And  cinctured  forms,  with  faces  dyed 

In  battle-paint,  approaching  fast. 


192  YONNONDIO. 


XIII. 


The  motley  multitude  beheld 
Another  spectacle  disclosed, 
When  towering  oaks,  all  gray  with  eld, 
Their  trunks  no  longer  interposed. 
Four  Senecas  on  hurdle  bore 
A  pale-browed  warrior  wounded  sore  ; 
Though  moss  the  wattled  osiers  lined 
On  which  his  helpless  limbs  reclined, 
And  moved,  without  rude  jar,  along, 
His  bearers,  firm  of  tread  and  strong, 
To  stifle  broken  moan  of  pain 
He  tasked  his  ebbing  strength  in  vain  : 
And  though  a  day  in  flowery  June 
Not  long  had  passed  its  fervid  noon, 
Shook  the  poor  wretch,  as  if  witta  cold, 
And  hollow  cheek  and  glassy  eye 
Impressively  beholder  told 
That  his  last  hour  was  speeding  by. 


XIV. 


Air  rang  with  shouts  when  nearer  drew, 
In  ordered  line,  the  comers  new  ; 
And  when  low  boughs  concealed  no  more 
Bound  victim  by  his  funeral-pyre, 
There  came  a  sudden  paleness  o'er 
The  cheek  of  Blanche — and  her  old  sire 


THE  REVELATION.  193 


Glared  wildly  on  encircling  foes, 

Like  one  just  woke  from  horrid  dream, 

And,  clear  above  the  din,  arose 

His  frantic  daughter's  frightful  scream. 

xv. 

"  Give  way,  incarnate  fiends,  give  way  !" 
Shouted  impetuous  De  Grai — 
Wrath  glittered  in  his  proud  dark  eye, 
His  unsheathed  dagger  flashed  on  high, 
And  parted  while  he  dashed  along, 
As  keel  divides  rough  waves,  the  throng. 
On  burning  brand  he  fearless  trode, 
Through  kindling  fagots  opened  road, 
And,  though  black  clouds  of  heated  smoke 
Their  blinding  folds  around  him  twined, 
He  cut,  with  quick,  indignant  stroke, 
Bands  that  the  fainting  knight  confined. 

XVI. 

"Ho!    Senecas  ! — and  will  ye  see, 
Unmoved,  the  foe  yon  captive  free  1 
Down  with  the  white  intruder,  down ! 
And  scalp  hack  piece-meal  from  his  crown !" 
Aroused  by  taunt  of  wrinkled  seer, 
And  grasping  bow,  war-axe  and  spear, 
At  once  fierce  forms  begirt  De  Grai, 
Bearing  from  stake  Le  Troye  away ;- 


194  YONNONDIO. 

As  booming  waters  of  the  deep 

Round  some  lone  sea-rock  darkly  sweep 

When  evil  powers  the  storm  unchain, 

And  skill  of  mariner  is  vain. 

Already  leaving  bloody  trace, 

Long,  whistling  shaft  had  grazed  his  face, 

And  flying  hatchet  from  his  head, 

A  glossy  lock  of  brown  had  shred, 

When  cleared  On-yit-ha,  with  a  bound, 

The  living  wall  that  hemmed  him  round, 

And  made,  attention  to  command, 

A  haughty  toss  of  lifted  hand  ; 

Then  to  full  height  his  form  updrew, 

And  thus  rebuked  the  savage  crew. 

XVII. 

"Rash,  shameless  men  !  would  ye  o'erthrow 

Laws  honored  by  the  great  of  yore  1 

Drop  tomahawk,  unstring  the  bow, 

And  to  its  sheath  the  knife  restore  ! 

My  brother,  whom  ye  fain  would  slay, 

Though  wearing  still  the  pallid  shade 

By  fathers  caught  from  ocean's  spray, 

Is  clansman  by  adoption  made. 

Long  in  our  vale  he  hath  encamped ; 

My  totem  on  his  breast  is  stamped, 

And  Can-ne-hoot  on  him  conferred 

A  name  that  rings  like  battle-word !" 


THE  REVELATION.  195 

Allusion  to  their  fallen  chief, 

From  dusky  throng  called  groan  of  grief, 

And  wond'ring  orator  inquired 

Why  thus  they  mourned  1 — then  mischief  fired 

The  wily  Prophet's  serpent  eye, 

And  moved  his  lips  in  prompt  reply. 

XVIII. 

"  His  face  great  Ou-we-nee-you  veils 
Behind  a  black  and  lowering  cloud  ; 

For  Can-ne-hoot  a  nation  wails — 

The  monarch-pine  in  dust  is  bowed  : 

Protecting  roof  his  branches  cast, 

Above  our  heads,  when  roared  the  blast ; 

Through  rolling  years  his  aged  form 

Defied  red  bolt  of  growling  storm  ; 

Mad  whirlwinds  wrestled  with  his  trunk, 

And  from  the  dread  encounter  shrunk  ; 

But  never  more  to  glad  our  eyes, 

Above  the  forest-tops,  will  rise 

His  brow,  undimmed  by  winter's  blight, 

His  crown  rejoicing  in  the  light/' 

XIX. 

"  Why  tell  On-yit-ha  of  the  fame 
That  lustre  gives  paternal  name  ? 
No  eulogist  red  warrior  needs 
From  Erie  to  the  Salt  Lake  known — 


196  YONNONDIO. 

The  tale  of  whose  heroic  deeds 
Swift  courier-winds  abroad  have  blown. 
In  battle  with  yon  pale-face  fell 
The  ruler  that  we  loved  so  well : 
He  slumbers  with  his  broken  bow, 
Rude  covering-  of  leaves  below, 
Pierced  by  the  lightning  of  the  foe. 

xx. 

"  By  young  and  old  he  was  revered, 
Proud  far-off  tribes  his  anger  feared ; 
Death  in  a  hundred  wars  he  faced, 
His  lodge  a  thousand  trophies  graced. 
On  the  green  prairies  of  the  west, 
And  where,  through  wilderness  remote, 
Missouri  rolls  with  turbid  breast, 
Pawnee  and  Omahaw  he  smote. 
At  their  own  hearths  his  arrow  shot 
The  Chictaghic  and  Wyandot : — 
He  woke,  on  banks  of  southern  stream, 
Catawba  from  his  midnight  dream, 
And  victor  paced  the  lonely  shore 
On  which,  in  foam  dissolving,  breaks 
Forever,  with  a  solemn  roar, 
The  dark  blue  SIRE  of  mighty  Lakes." 


THE  REVELATION.  197 

XXI. 

Emotion  of  revenge  and  grief 
A  passing  moment  shook  the  chief, 
And  covered  with  a  cloud  his  face, 
Then  gave  to  nobler  feelings  place. 
"  The  task  is  difficult,  old  SEER, 

Deep  groans  of  anguish  to  repress 
While  rings  announcement  in  mine  ear 

That  I  am  fatherless — 
That  he,  the  mighty  one,  is  slain, 
On  whom  the  Five  Great  Tribes  in  vain, 
When  boughs,  wrenched  off  by  whirlwinds,  fall 
From  tree  of  peace,  henceforth  will  call. 
The  proudest  seat,  at  council  fire, 
Is  vacant  made  by  death  of  sire  ; 
And  loud  will  be  the  voice  of  wail 
For  Eagle  of  this  river- vale 
In  the  bright  fulness  of  renown, 
And  fighting  for  our  homes,  struck  down  : 
But  in  our  sorrow  feel  we  not 

That  his  must  be  a  happy  lot ; 

For  spirits  of  the  just  and  brave 

Pass,  when  the  war  of  life  is  done, 

To  a  green  land,  that  knows  no  grave, 

Outspread  below  the  setting  sun." 

Bfi 


198  YONNONDIO. 

XXII. 

"  In  fair  encounter  with  his  foe, 

Eye  meeting  eye,  and  foot  to  foot, 
Yon  wounded  chief,  with  locks  of  snow, 

Shot  down  the  mighty  Can-ne-hoot ; 
And,  like  proud  ancestors  of  old, 
Heroes  in  reverence  I  hold 
Regardless  of  their  race  and  name  r — 
Enough  that  they  are  heirs  of  fame 
Who  scorn  dishonorable  deed, 
And  born  their  fellow-men  to  lead  ! 
Yon  Pale-Face,  who  my  father  slew, 
Hath  proved  himself  a  warrior  true  ; 
And  time  the  law  hath  hallowed  made 
That  gives  red  native  of  the  shade, 
When  death  hath  sadly  thinn'd  the  band, 
A  right  war-captive  to  demand, 
Be  his  complexion  pale  or  red, 
To  fill  void  places  of  the  dead  !" 

XXIII. 

"  Though  colored  by  the  foam-flecked  wave, 

Od-deen-yo  is  my  brother  brave  : 

Regard  from  Can-ne-hoot  he  won 

Who  called  him  his  adopted  son  ; 

Proud  eagle  feathers  form  his  crest, 

And  gleams  the  turtle  on  his  breast, 


THE  REVELATION.  199 

Tokens  by  which  our  laws  alone 
The  grade  of  chieftainship  make  known. 
Therefore  to  him  the  right  belongs 
To  free  yon  captive  from  his  thongs, 
And  wash  the  death-paint  from  his  cheek — 
Ye,  who  that  right  dare  question,  speak  "/ 

XXIV. 

On-yit-ha's  tone  was  stern  and  high — 
He  paused  in  vain  to  hear  reply  ; 
By  vengeful  thought  no  longer  fired, 
The  dark  encircling  throng  retired ; 
Vanished  all  outward  sign  of  strife, 
Replaced  in  leathern  sheath  was  knife ; 
Aside  the  knotty  war-club  flung, 
Keen  hatchet  lowered,  and  bow  unstrung. 

XXV. 

Meanwhile,  by  friendly  arm  upborne, 
His  vesture  blackened,  scorched  and  torn, 
From  swoon  the  rescued  Baron  woke  ; 
A  moment  on  De  Grai  he  gazed, 
Repulsively  his  arm  then  raised, 

And  fiercely  thus  outbroke. 
"  Hence  !  fell  betrayer  of  my  child, 
Oh,  once  the  pure  and  undefiled ! 
Hence !  rather  than  owe  life  to  thee, 
Thou  monster  of  iniquity 


200  YONNONDIO. 

In  fair  exterior  disguised! 

Tortures  more  dreadful  I  would  bear 

Than  fiend,  in  region  of  despair, 

For  Wo  hath  yet  devised  : 
And  added,  while  he  back  recoiled 
As  if  his  person  had  been  soiled 
By  some  contagious  thing  and  foul — 
"  On  thee  may  black  misfortune  scowl ! 
A  father's  curse  be  on  thy  head 
To  blast" — ere  further  word  he  said, 
Smote  on  his  ear  a  piteous  cry, 
Rustled  the  leaf-clad  thicket  nigh, 
And  wildly  toward  the  stern  old  man, 
With  outstretched  arms,  a  lady  ran, 
And,  falling  at  his  feet,  thus  sued 
In  penitential  attitude, 

XXVI. 

"  Father  !  thine  erring  Blanche  forgive, 
Oh,  breathe  the  word  that  bids  her  live  ! 
Her  heart,  wild  home  of  sin  and  fear, 
Would  break  thy  malison  to  hear  : 
From  thee  she  hath  been  absent  long, 
And  thou  hast  suffered  grievous  wrong; 
111  was  repaid  thy  watchful  love  ; — 
Forgetful  of  a  God  above, 
She  left  thee,  lured  by  lover's  call, 
Gray  haired,  and  lonely  in  thy  hall  : 


THE  REVELATION.  201 

That  God  hath  visited  with  pain 
Her  throbbing  pulse,  and  fevered  brain  ; 
A  babe  from  her  embraces  torn, 
Whose  lonely  grave,  in  woods  unshorn, 
Is  black  with  shade  both  night  and  morn. 
How  changed  the  face,  to  thee  upcast, 
Since  looked  on  by  a  father  last ! 
The  rose  that  gave  it  bloom  hath  fled, 
The  joy  that  made  it  bright  is  dead." 

XXVII. 

Awhile,  in  breast  of  haughty  sire, 
Love  waged  tumultuous  war  with  ire  : 
The  former  triumphed — and  he  raised 
From  earth  the  supplicant,  and  gazed 
Intently  on  her  bloodless  face  ; 
Then  while  the  tears  fell  fast  and  warm, 
Strained  to  his  heart  her  drooping  form 

In  passionate  embrace. 
Though  dawned  and  fled  had  many  a  day, 
And  thinner  grown  his  locks  of  gray, 
Since  Blanche  his  castle-hold  forsook 
Without  one  parting  word  or  look, 
By  him  forgotten  in  that  hour 
Was  her  neglected  lute  and  bower, 
Filial  ingratitude  the  chief 
Ingredient  in  his  cup  of  grief; 


202  YONNONDIO. 

His  lonely  home,  unlighted  hearth, 

And  hopes,  frail  blossoms,  crushed  to  earth. 


XXVIII. 


The  being  circled  by  his  arms, 
Though  dimmed  by  agony  were  charms 
Once  lauded  by  the  courtly  throng — 
Which  bard  had  made  his  theme  of  song, 
Was  lovely  still : — and  one  recalled 
By  frozen  bonds  of  death  enthralled  ; 
For  in  the  blue  of  her  soft  eye 
Gleamed  the  rich  light  of  days  gone  by, 
And  seemed  her  glossy,  chestnut  hair, 
The  same  her  mother  used  to  wear 
When  the  proud  nobles  of  the  land 
Were  rival-suitors  for  her  hand. 

xxtx. 

"Cling  closely  to  this  bosom  old, 

Fair  image  of  the  lost  and  dear  ! 
I  cannot  deem  thy  mother  cold, 

And  in  her  shroud,  while  thou  art  ne  ar. 
My  prayer  the  Holy  One  hath  heard, 

And  hither  hath  the  wanderer  sped 
As  speedeth  to  her  nest  the  bird 

When  day -light  leaves  the  mountain-head. 
Although  a  blighted  name  is  thine, 
And  stained  the  honor  of  my  line, 


THE    REVELATION.  203 

By  day  and  night,  on  land  and  sea, 

My  dreams  and  thoughts  have  been  of  thee." 

XXX. 

"  Oh  I  I  have  borne  what  few  can  bear, 
And  in  my  heart  the  bitter  springs 

Of  grief  been  opened,  while  despair 

Swept  with  rude  hand  the  quivering  strings ; 

But  on  my  wretchedness  a  ray 

Of  comfort  hath  been  shed  to  day, 

For  I  have  looked  upon  my  child, 

Poor,  houseless  wanderer  of  the  wild, 

And  heard  her  thrilling  voice  outpour 

Its  clear,  melodious  tone  once  more ! 

And  can  it  be  that  flower  so  fair 

Hath  breathed  contaminated  air — 

That  worms  within  its  heart  lie  coiled, 

And  every  fragrant  leaf  unsoiled  1 

That  never  will  the  minstrel-strain, 

Cheer  my  ancestral  home  again — 

That  soon  its  hospitable  hearth 

Will  colder  be  than  burial  earth, 

While  creatures  haunt  the  ruin  gray 

Fostered  by  silence  and  decay  1 

The  Demon  lies,  my  daughter  dear ! 

WTio  whispers  ever  in  mine  ear 

That  paramour  of  wretch  thou  art 

All  red  of  hand  and  black  of  heart ! 


204  YONNONDIO. 

The  treach'rous  murderer  who  gave 
To  MORDAUNT  an  untimely  grave  !" 

XXXI. 

"  By  whom" — a  feeble  voice  exclaimed — 

"  Am  I,  poor  dying  sinner,  named  V 

The  Baron  turned  abruptly  round, 

His  eye  directed  by  the  sound, 

And  underneath  an  aged  tree, 

While  summer-winds  shook  fitfully 

The  leaves  upon  its  hoary  bough, 

De  Lisle,  the  Jesuit,  descried 

Through  grim  disguise  of  paint  that  dyed 

Contorted  face,  and  troubled  brow. 

XXXII. 

On  bed  of  shaggy  fells  he  lay, 
And,  bending  o'er  him,  Wun-nut-hay 
A  gourd-shell  to  his  lips  applied, 
Filled  from  the  streamlet's  lapsing  tide. 
In  haste  a  deep,  reviving  draught, 
To  cool  his  burning  thirst,  he  quaffed ; 
Then,  while  his  glance  new  lustre  caught, 
Impatiently  Le  Troye  besought 
By  word  and  gesture  to  draw  near ; 
As  if  the  wretch,  ere  tongue  grew  cold, 
At  length  dark  secret  would  unfold 
Cherished  for  many  a  year. 


THE    REVELATION.  205 


XXXIII. 

Approaching,  as  the  priest  desired, 

The  Baron  of  his  state  inquired  ; 

Gazed,  with  commiserating  glance, 

Upon  his  changing  countenance, 

While,  wet  by  drops  from  wound  undressed, 

Red  grew  the  robe  that  wrapped  his  breast. 

"  A  few  more  pangs  will  rend  this  form, 

And  closed  will  be  a  day  of  storm — 

A  few  more  groans  these  lips  forsake, 

And  life's  frail,  golden  chalice  break*" 

XXXIV. 

"  When  torn  by  lead,  or  biting  steel, 
The  lacerated  flesh  may  heal ; 
But  drug  and  rare  balsamic  weed 
Were  never  known  to  work  a  cure 
In  bosoms  guilty  and  impure, 
With  ulcers  filled  that  inly  bleed  j 
The  fatal  bullet  of  De  G-rai, 
Lodged  in  my  trunk,  gives  little  pain 
Compared  with  fires  that  night  and  day 
Feed  slowly  on  my  shattered  brain. 
If  I  could  weep  repentant  tears, 
Methinks  my  pulse  would  calmer  grow, 
And  taunting  demon,  in  mine  ears, 
Would  cease  the  trump  of  doom  to  blow  : 


206  YONNONDIO. 

But  sooner  would  joy's  roseate  hue 
Flush  the  cold  features  of  a  corse, 
Than  one  reviving  drop  bedew 
These  withered  cheeks — and,  aye,  remorse 
Wakes  memory  of  evil  deeds, 
Waving  the  black  flag  of  despair, 
And,  kissing  cross  and  counting  beads, 
I  murmur  forth  unanswered  prayer. 

XXXV. 

Accusing  conscience  in  my  heart 
Plunged  deeply  an  envenomed  dart, 
When,  breathing  wo  in  every  word, 
Thy  voice,  addressing  Blanche,  I  heard  : 
And,  while  around  me  dimly  thronged 
The  phantoms  of  the  buried  past, 
I  prayed  that  those  whom  I  had  wronged 
Forgiving  glance  on  me  would  cast 
Before  my  tortured  soul  took  flight  j 
And  listen,  while  the  word  was  spoken, 
Fraught  with  a  power  to  reunite 
The  ties  of  love  by  slander  broken." 

XXXVI. 

"  No  brother  of  the  craft  am  I, 
Who  shrive  the  guilty  ere  they  die  : 
In  penance-cell  I  never  stood, 
And  warrior's  helm,  not  monkish  hood, 


THE  REVELATION.  207 

Comports  with  my  profession  best. 
But  why  disquieted  in  mind  ? 
A  holy  man  should  be  resigned 
When  passing  to  the  Land  of  Rest : 
Where  the  tree  falleth,  let  it  lie  ! 
Nor  doth  it  matter,  when  we  die, 
What  hands  the  turf  above  us  heap ; 
And,  Priest !  as  calm  will  be  thy  sleep 
Beneath  the  sunless  forest  mould, 
As  in  dark  crypt  of  convent  old." 

XXXVII. 

"  Why  should  remembrance  overpower 
Thy  spirit  in  its  parting  hour  ? 
What  secret  dread  can  breast  of  thine 
Within  its  hidden  depths  enshrine  t 
Thy  name,  De  Lisle,  both  far  and  near, 
Is  to  thy  wandering  Order  dear ; 
For  banner  of  the  Cross  by  thee 
Displayed  hath  been  on  land  and  sea, 
And  rugged  ways  thy  feet  have  trod, 
Ambassador  to  man  from  God," 

XXXVIII. 

The  dying  Jesuit  replied 
In  accent  unto  scorn  allied  ; 
"  Beneath  a  friar's  dusky  stole 
May  lurk  a  stern,  revengeful  soul ; 


208  YONNONDIO. 

And  any  hypocrite  may  make 
Prayers,  long  and  loud,  at  holy  shrine, 
Or,  with  meek,  solemn  look,  partake 
Of  consecrated  bread  and  wine. 
Although  my  garb  is  coarse  and  plain, 
And  faded  by  the  wind  and  rain, 
A  gallant  livery  I  wore 
When,  inmate  of  thy  castle  hall, 
I  gaily  paced  its  marble  floor, 
And  gazed  upon  its  pictured  wall/* 

XXXIX. 

"  Start  not! — I  am  no  phantom  dread, 
Though  long  have  I  been  mourned  as  dead  1 
Not  know  me,  Baron  1 — who  from  dust 
The  banner  of  thy  fathers  raised, 
Reckless  of  pike  and  sabre-thrust, 
And  battle-fires  that  round  him  blazed  ] 
"  If  told,  De  Lisle,  by  thee  aright, 

That  gallant  boy,  so  wise  and  brave 
Beyond  his  years," — rejoined  the  Knight — 
"  Is  lying  in  a  bloody  grave  : 
When  Blanche  with  her  betrayer  fled, 
A  swift,  pursuing  band  he  led, 
But  came  not  back  : — " 

"Foul  lie,"  exclaimed 
The  dying  Jesuit — "I  framed." 
Mordaunt  yet  lives,  but  feebly  thrill 


THE  REVELATION.  209 

His  pulses  that  will  soon  be  still, 
And  mist  will  cloud  his  eye  ere  day 
Dies  in  the  arms  of  evening  gray." 

XL. 

"  The  peasant  who,  in  thickest  fight, 
Snatched  from  the  dust  thy  banner  bright, 
And,  dashing  blood-drops  from  his  face, 
Shouted  the  war-cry  of  thy  race — 
The  wretch,  from  straw-thatched  hovel  raised 
To  place  in  dome  where  grandeur  blazed, 
Who  dared  to  sue,  in  height  of  pride, 
A  high-born  maid  to  be  his  bride  j 
And,  crossed  in  love,  who  darkly  coined 
A  tale  that  three  fond  hearts  disjoined, 
And  drove  from  France,  far,  far  away, 
Thy  slandered  daughter  and  De  Grai, 
Before  thee  lies  /" — The  Baron  took 
A  backward  step,  with  startled  look, 
As  if  he  deemed,  all  pale  and  gaunt, 
The  grave  had  yielded  up  Mordaunt  1 

XLI. 

Resumed  the  dying  man  : — "  Behold 
This  fine-wrought  chain  of  yellow  gold  ! — 
The  glittering  thing  thy  daughter  gave, 
As  guerdon  meet  to  deck  the  brave, 

When  rode  she  forth,  on  palfrey  fleet, 

s2 


210  YONNONDIO. 

A  weary,  war-worn  sire  to  greet, 
Returning  from  that  field  where  brand 
Flashed  for  the  first  time  in  my  hand. 
Oh,  fatal  gift  to  me  it  proved  ! — 
The  donor  from  that  hour  was  loved 
'Till  came  the  well  remembered,  morn 
When  hope  was  crushed  by  cruel  scorn, 
And,  blasted  by  her  look  of  pride, 
Within  me  better  feelings  died." 

XLH. 

"  My  soul  the  lair  of  hate  became, 
And  when  De  Grai  thy  daughter  won, 
I  breathed  detraction  on  his  name, 
And  the  black  web  of  falsehood  spun. 
Old  man ! — with  him  be  reconciled — 
Chaste  was  his  passion  for  thy  child  !'* 

XLIII, 

Gloom,  on  the  visage  of  Le  Troye, 

Was  lighted  up  with  sudden  joy 

To  hear,  from  guilt's  half^palsied  tongue* 

Truths,  by  remorse  the  prompter  wrung, 

That  chased,  from  fame  of  young  De  Grai, 

Clouds  of  imputed  crime  away, 

And  made  his  heart  with  rapture  thrill 

To  know  that  Blanche  was  stainless  still. 

Awhile,  fixed  posture  he  maintained, 


THE  REVELATION.  211 

And  deep  emotion  speech  restrained  ; 
Then  called  he,  with  impassioned  air, 
Upon  the  fond  and  faithful  pair. 
As  happy  father  hails  a  son 
Returning  from  a  distant  land, 
And  breathes  a  hurried  benison, 
While  hand  is  interlocked  in  hand, 
So  greeting  the  young  Chevalier, 
Whose  arm  upheld  his  daughter  dear, 
Bright  drops  the  gray-haired  warrior  shed,. 
That  had  in  bliss  their  fountain-head. 

XLIV. 

"  Heir  of  that  gallant  friend" — he  cried — . 
"  Who,  shielding  me  in  battle,  died ! 
Pure  in  my  sight  again  thou  art, 
And  doubly  precious  to  a  heart 
Too  long  by  tales  estranged  from  thee 
That  linked  thy  name  with  infamy. 
While  quaffing  death's  embittered  cup, 
Yon  penitent  his  crime  confessed, 
And,  with  a  groan,  surrendered  up 
Long  cherished  secrets  of  his  breast : 
The  cord  that  knit  our  soul  in  twain, 
Was  riven  by  his  plotting  brain, 
And  charges  by  dark  hint  conveyed, 
Between  us  wide  disruption  made ; 
But  sorrow's  beating  storm  is  o'er — 


212  YONNONDIO. 

Affection's  band  will  break  no  more. 

Though  he  this  grievous  wrong  hath  done, 

Oh,  be  not  wroth  with  him,  my  son ! 

A  pardoned  foeman  let  him  die, 

For  gleams  contrition  in  his  eye ; 

And,  withered  and  untimely  old, 

The  lost  Mordaunt  in  him  behold. 

XLV. 

All  turned  their  gaze  upon  the  Priest — 
His  pulse  to  throb  that  instant  ceased ; 
No  groan,  appalling  to  the  ear, 
Betokened  that  he  died  in  fear ; 
Or  struggle,  terrible  to  sight, 
Marked  the  mysterious  spirit's  flight; 
But  faintly  trembled,  with  a  chill, 
His  wasted  form — then  all  was  still. 
Gone  from  his  cheek  was  fever's  glow. 
And  crucifix  his  right  hand  pressed 
To  lips  through  which,  in  languid  flow, 
Oozed  blood  bedabbling  chin  and  breast : 
That  dull  gray  shade  his  face  o'erspread 
Which  dims  the  features  of  the  dead — 
Imparting  to  the  stony  mien 
Look  that  is  ne'er  forgot,  once  seen. 
His  hair  was  touched  with  winter's  rime, 
Sad  work  of  passion  wild,  not  time  ; 
And  thought,  anticipating  age, 


THE    REVELATION.  213 


Though  brief  his  mortal  pilgrimage, 
His  brow  had  furrowed  o'er,  and  drawn 
Deep  lines  upon  his  visage  wan. 

XL  VI. 

Thus,  from  its  tenement  of  clay, 
Passed  soul  of  God-like  gifts  away, 
Whose  ill-directed  aim  and  powers 
Robbed  life  of  sunshine,  calm  and  flowers 
Thus,  ere  the  noon  of  manhood,  died, 
Blind  slave  of  impulse,  scorn  and  pride ! 
A  being  of  no  common  mould ; 
He  wandered  from  the  way  of  right, 
And  sought  polluted  fires  to  light 
Torch  of  ambition  uncontrolFd. 

XLVII. 

He  might  have  gained  the  lore  of  sage — 
Lived  a  proud  land-mark  of  his  age, 
And  name,  on  glory's  record  high, 
Transmitted  to  posterity  ; 
But  the  dread  Tempter  he  obeyed, 
And  shipwreck  of  his  honor  made. 
Peace  to  his  ashes  ! — long  ago 
His  corse  was  laid  the  sod  below, 
And  forms  an  undistinguished  part 
Of  cold  earth  now  his  fiery  heart. 
Wild  red  men  trenched  for  him  a  grave 


214  YONNONDIO. 

Kissed  by  the  Genesee's  dark  wave ; 
But  misty  centuries  have  fled 
Since  hollowed  was  that  narrow  bed, 
And  hidden  is  the  spot  forever 
By  shifting  channel  of  the  river. 

XLVIII. 

L'  ENVOY  TO  THE  READER. 

Young  leaves  the  brow  of  summer  crowned 
When  sire  unsullied  daughter  found, 
And  blessing  on  De  Grai,  restored 
To  place  in  his  regard,  outpoured  : 
But  faded  drapery  from  the  trees 
Was  shaken  down  by  autumn-breeze, 
When  peal  of  bell  and  minstrel-strain, 

And  banner  waving  from  the  wall, 
Told  that  the  Baron  trod  again 

The  floor  of  his  ancestral  hall. 

XL  IX. 

Through  chambers,  damp  and  long  unused, 
Bright  fires  once  more  a  warmth  diffused ; 
The  butler  broached,  with  merry  jest, 
Old  cask  that  held  the  cellar's  best, 
And  vanished,  from  the  banquet-room, 
Spirits  of  loneliness  and  gloom. 
From  kennel  darting  with  a  bound, 


L. 


Though  blest  the  happy  pair  with  all 

That  rank  and  riches  could  bestow, 

In  converse  used  they  to  recall 

Long  hours  of  exile  and  of  wo  : 

And  both  in  thought  did  often  stray 

Over  the  blue  dividing  main, 

And  tread,  with  fawn-eyed  Wun-nut-hay, 

The  Genesee's  green  shore  again  ; 

Or  wigwam,  in  his  valley  bright, 

Depicture  to  the  mental  sight 

Where  dwelt,  their  hearts  with  joy  elate, 

On-yit-ha  and  his  dusky  mate  ; 

The  former  proud  of  bright  fusee, 

Gift  of  Od-deen-yo  o'er  the  sea, 

With  stock  whereon,  in  bold  relief, 


THE  REVELATION.  215 

A  welcome  whined  the  aged  hound ; 
And  tenants  of  the  broad  estate 
Thronged  gaily  to  the  castle-gate, 
And  waved  with  shout  their  hats  on  high, 
Greeting  their  lord  right  heartily  ! 
With  cries  of  joy,  domestics  old 
Flocked  their  young  mistress  to  behold; 
Her  sorrows  fled, — her  wanderings  o'er, — 
Beneath  the  roof  of  home  once  more, 
While  towered  a  form  of  manly  pride, 
Her  faithful  lover,  by  her  side. 


216  YONNONDIO. 

Carved  was  the  totem  of  the  chief: 
The  latter  decked  with  jewels  rare, 
Prized  parting  gifts  of  sister  fair, 
And  chain,  that  once  the  Jesuit  wore, 
Wrought  from  the  purest  golden  ore. 


END    OP    CANTO    SEVENTH. 


NOTES. 


PROEM. 

Their  rivers  run  with  narrowed  bounds. 

"  That  trees  are  great  promoters  of  lakes  and  rivers,  appears  from  a  well 
known  fact  in  North  America;  for,  since  the  woods  and  forests  have  been 
grubbed  and  cleared,  all  bodies  of  water  that  were  considerable  a  century 
ago,  will  not  now  drive  a  common  mill."  Natural  History  of  Selborne — 
Kalm's  Travels  in  North  America. 

CANTO    I. 

Tyrondequait  was  darkly  lying. — STANZA  i. 

By  some  writers  the  word  was  written  Tyrondequait,  by  others  Ironde- 
quat.  Smith  in  his  history  of  New-York,  alludes  to  a  public  trading  house 
"  at  Irondequat  in  the  Senecas'  land."  The  name  given  on  modern  maps,  to 
this  romantic  bay,  is  'Irondequoit.' 

With  arching  neck  and  air  of  pride 
The  white  swan  floated  on  the  tide. — STANZA  n. 

The  author's  father,  a  pioneer  of  Western  New-York,  informed  him,  that 
in  the  first  settlement  of  the  country  he  saw  a  flock  of  twenty  swans 
"spreading  their  snowy  sails"  in  the  Bay  of  Tyrondequait.  Two  or  three 
summers  since,  a  brother  of  the  author  shot  a  swan,  of  large  dimensions, 
while  flying  over  a  Pond  in  the  vicinity  of  Avon ;  and  more  recently,  one 
was  killed  in  Tyrondequait  Bay,  by  a  gentleman  of  Rochester. 

Gaunt  wolf-dogs  panted  with  the  heat. — STANZA  IV. 

The  Indians  rear  a  breed  of  dogs  crossed  with  the  wolf  and  fox — remar- 
kable for  their  speed,  sharp  noses,  and  pointed,  upright  ears. 

On  Cadaracqui's  calm  expanse. — STANZA  vn. 

Cadaracqui  is  the  aboriginal  name  of  Ontario.  "  The  Senecas  (whom  the 
French  call  Sonontouons)  are  situated  between  Lake  Erie  and  Cadaracqui 
Lake,  near  the  great  fall  of  lagara  (sometimes  called  Oniagira,  Ochniagara,) 
by  which  all  the  Indians  that  live  round  Lake  Erie,  round  the  Lake  of  the 
Huron-,  round  the  Lake  of  the  Illinois,  or  Michigan,  and  round  the  great 
T 


218  NOTES. 

Upper  Lake,  generally  pass  in  their  way  to  Canada."    Smith's  History  of 
New-York. 

While  hither,  on  the  swelling  waves, 
Float  Yonnondio's  hostile  braves. — STANZA  vnr. 

Yonnondio  was  a  title  originally  given  by  the  Five  Nations  to  M.  de  Mont- 
magny,  but  became  a  style  of  address  in  thftir  treaties,  by  which  succeeding 
Governor  Generals  of  New  France  were  designated.  • 

The  coward  Hurons  guide  them  here, 

And  fondly  hope,  in  lucky  hour, 

To  crush  the  Aganuschion  power, 

"  The  Five  Nations  were  the  Mohawks,  the  Oneidas,  the  Cayugas,  the  On- 
ondagns  and  the  Seuecas.  The  Virginian  Indians  gave  them  the  name  of 
Massawomekes;  the  Dutch  called  them  Maquas,  or  MakakuaA;  and  the 
French,  Iroquois.  Their  appellation  at  home  was  the  Mingoes,  and  some- 
times the  Aganuschion,  or  United  People."  THATCHER. 

"When  the  Dutch  began  the  settlement  of  this  country,  all  the  Indians  on 
Long  Island  and  the  northern  shore  of  the  sound,  on  the  banks  of  the  Con- 
necticut, Hudson,  Delaware  and  Susquehanna  rivers,  were  in  subjection  to 
the  Five  Nations,  and  acknowledge  it  by  the  payment  of  tribute.  The 
French  historians  of  Canada,  both  ancient  and  modern,  agree  that  the  more 
northern  Indians  were  driven  before  the  superior  martial  prowess  of  the 
confederates.  Thft  author  of  the  book  entitled,  "  Relation  Je  ce  qui  s'ert 
passe  do  plus  rcmarquahlc  aux  mission  de  peres,  de  lacumpagnie  dc  Jesus 
en  la  nouvelle  France,"  published  with  the  privilege  of  the  French  King,  at 
Paris,  in  1661,  informs  U9  that  all  the  Northern  Indians  were  harassed  by 
the  Five  Nations.  "  Partout,  (says  he,  speaking  in  the  name  of  the  mission- 
aries,) nous  trouvons  Iroquois,  qui  comme  nu  phantome  importun,  nons 
pbsede  en  tons  liens."  Smith's  History  of  New-York. 

De  NonviUe,  with  an  eye  of  skill, 

Took  measurement  of  slope  and  hill. — STANZA  xn. 

De  la  Barre  was  succeeded  by  the  M  ir<im>  1)  •  \ynvule,  Colonel  of  the 
dragoons,  who  arrived  with  a  reinforcement  in  1685.  In  the  preceding  your 
the  French  availed  tln'in.-rl\i-s  of  a  peace  with  the  Five  Nations,  to  build 
fortifications  on  the  northern  waters,  an-l  extending  their  fur  trade  among 
the  northern  and  western  Indians.  They  were  opposed  by  the  Iroquois. 
The  Senccas,  who  were  the  most  numerous  of  the  allied  tribes,  and  nearest 
the  theatre  of  action,  annoyed  the  French,  by  cutting  off  trading  parties 
laden  with  ammunition  and  arms  for  the  tribes  who  hunted  for  them. 

De  la  Barre  collected  at  Cadaracqui  Fort  (now  Kingston,)  the  -forces  of 
Canada,  but  sickness  in  his  camp  compelled  him  to  abandon  his  military 
operations  against  the  Five  Nations,  and  resort  to  negotiation.  A  trca^T 
was  held  at  Kaihohage,  between  Indian  deputies,  with  Garangula  at  their 
head,  and  Canadian  Governor.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  Onondaga 
chief  in  a  harangue  that  has  been  pronounced  by  the  lamented  Clinton 
equal  in  oratorical  merit  to  Logan's  famous  speech,  exclaimed— •£  Yonnon- 
dio!— you  must  have  believed  when  you  left  Quebec,  that  the  sun  nad  burnt 


NOTES.  219 

up  all  the  forests  which  render  our  country  inaccessible  to  the  French,  or 
that  the  lakes  had  so  far  overflown  the  banks,  that  they  had  surrounded  our 
castles,  and  that  it  was  impossible  for  us  to  get  out  of  them.  Yes,  surely 
you  must  have  dreamed  so,  and  the  curiosity  of  seeing  so  great  a  wonder, 
has  brought  you  so  far.  Now  you  are  undeceived.  I  and  the  warriors  here 
present,  are  come  to  assure  you,  that  the  Senecas,  Cayugas,  Onondagas, 
Oueidas  and  Mohawks  arc  yet  alive.  I  thank  you  in  their  name,  for  bring- 
ing back  into  their  country  the  calumet,  which  your  predecessor  received 
from  their  hands.  It  was  happy  for  you,  that  you  left  underground  that 
murdering  hatchet  so  often  dyed  in  the  blood  of  the  French. 

"  Hear,  Yonnondio !  I  do  not  sleep.  I  have  my  eyes  open.  The  sun  which 
enljghtens  me,  discovers  to  me  a  great  captain  at  the  head  of  a  company  of 
soldiers,  who  speaks  as  if  he  were  dreaming.  He  says,  that  he  only  came 
to  the  lake  to  smok«  on  the  great  calumet  with  the  Onondagas.  But  Garan- 
gula  says  he  sees  the  contrary ;  that  it  was  to  knock  them  on  the  head,  if 
sickness  had  not  weakened  the  arms  of  the  French.  I  see  Yonnondio  raving 
in  the  camp  of  sick  menf  whoso  lives  the  Great  Spirit  has  saved  by  inflic- 
ting this  sickneae  on  them. 

Hear,  Yonnondio!  our  women  had  taken  their  clubs,  our  children  and 
old  men  had  carried  their  bows  and  arrows  into  the  heart  of  your  camp,  if 
our  warriors  had  not  disarmed  them,  and  kept  them  back,  when  your  mes- 
senger came  to  our  castles.  It  is  done,  and  I  have  said  it. 

Hear,  Yonnondio ! — We  plundered  none  of  the  French,  but  those  that 
carried  guns,  powder  and  balls  to  the  Twightwiesand  Chictaghicks,  because 
those  arms  might  have  cost  us  our  lives.  Herein  we  follow  the  example  of 
the  Jesuits,  who  break  all  the  kegs  of  rum  brought  to  our  castles,  lest  the 
drunken  Indians  should  knock  them  on  the  head.  Our  warriors  have  not 
beaver  enough  to  pay  for  all  the  arms  they  have  taken,  and  our  old  men  are 
not  afraid  of  the  war.  This  belt  preserves  my  words.  We  carried  the 
English  into  our  Lakes  to  trade  there  with  the  Utawawas  and  Anatoyhies, 
as  the  Adirondacks  brought  the  French  to  our  castles  to  carry  on  a  trade 
which  the  English  say  is  theirs.  We  are  born  free.  We  neither  depend 
on  Yonnondio  or  Corlear  (name  given  to  the  Governors  of  New-York.)  Wo 
may  go  where  we  please,  and  carry  with  us  whom  we  please,  and  buy  and 
sell  what  we  please.  If  your  allies  be  your  slaves,  use  them  as  such,  com- 
mand them  to  receive  no  other  but  your  people."  When  the  words  of 
Garangula  were  interpreted  to  De  La  Barre,  stung  with  shame  and  incensed 
he  left  the  council.  Soon  after,  his  troops  disbanded  and  the  haughty  Iro- 
quois  exulted  in  this  signal  overthrow  of  the  Governor's  schemes. 

The  Marquis  De  Nonville,  says  Smith  in  his  history,  was  a  man  of  courage 
and  of  an  enterprising  spirit,  and  not  a  little  animated  by  the  consideration 
that  he  was  sent  over  to  repair  the  disgrace  which  his  predecessor  had 
brought  upon  the  French  Colony.  By  Charlevoix  he  is  thus  eulogized — 
"  Egalement  estimable  pour  sa  valeur,  sa  droiture  and  sa  piete."  La  Hon- 
tan  censures  his  acts  while  administering  the  government  of  New  France, 
in  violating  the  treaty  at  Whitehall,  by  invading  the  country  of  the  Senecas, 
and  denying  the  British  title  to  the  command  of  the  Lake.  In  the  language 
of  Smith,  "  De  Nonville,  to  prevent  the  interruption  of  the  French  trade 


• 

I 

220  NOTES. 

with  the  Twightwies,  determined  to  carry  the  war  into  the  country  of  the 
Five  Nations.  To  that  end  he  collected,  in  1687,  two  thousand  troops  and 
six  hundred  Indians  at  Montreal,  and  issued  orders  to  all  the  officers  in  the 
more  westerly  country  to  meet  him  at  Niagara,  on  an  expedition  against  the 
Senecas.  *.***** 

The  Five  Nations,  in  th«  mean  time,  were  preparing  to  give  the  French 
army  a  suitable  reception. 

The  Marquis  having  embarked  his  whole  army  in  canoes,  set  out  from 
the  fort  at  Cadaracqui,  on  the  23d  of  June,  one-half  of  them  passing  along 
the  north  and  the  other  on  the  south  side  of  the  Lake,  and  both  arrived  the 
same  time  at  Tyrondequait,  and  shortly  after  set  out  on  their  march  to- 
wards the  chief  village  of  the  Senecas,  at  about  seven  leagues' distance. 
The  main  body  was  composed  of  the  regulars  and  militia,  the  front  and  rear 
of  the  Indians  and  traders.  The  scouts  advanced  the  second  day  of  their 
march,  as  far  as  the  corn  of  the  village,  and  within  pistol  shot  of  five  hun- 
dred Senecas  who  lay  upon  their  bellies  undiscovered.  The  French  who 
imagined  the  enemy  were  all  fled,  quickened  their  march  to  overtake  the 
women  and  old  men.  But  no  sooner  had  they  reached  the  foot  of  a  hill, 
about  a  mile  from  the  village,  than  the  Senecas  raised  the  war-shout,  and 
in  the  same  instant  charged  upon  the  whole  army,  both  in  the  front  and 
rear.  Universal  confusion  ensued.  The  battalions  divided,  fired  upon  each 
other  and  flew  into  the  wood. 

The  Seneca*  improved  the  disorder  of  the  enemy,  till  they  were  over- 
powered by  the  force  of  numbers  and  compelled  to  retreat.  The  Marquis 
was  so  much  dispirited  that  he  could  not  be  persuaded  to  pursue  the  enemy 
that  day ;  which  gave  the  Senecas  an  opportunity  to  burn  their  village  and 
get  off.  Traces  of  De  Nonville's  invasion  are  still  visible  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Genrsec.  Near  the  village  of  West  Rush,  Monroe  County,  the 
traveler  and  tourist  can  still  see  the  ruins  of  a  fortified  encampment. 
Outlines  of  mortar  bed,  trench  and  mound  are  well  defined.  The  author  is 
in  possession  of  fragments  of  gun  and  blade,  picked  up  on  the  old  battle 
field  which  lies  at  the  foot  of  a  hill  on  which  the  present  village  of  Avon  is 
situated. 

It  is  a  favorite  haunt  and  play-place  of  the  school  boy,  who  is  lured  thither 
by  the  hope  of  finding  flint  or  musket  ball,  hatchet  or  arrow-heads,  disinter- 
red by  the  plough,  or  washed  to  view  by  the  drenching  shower. 

For  the  fierce  Huron  ofLorette, 

And  stern  Algonquin  of  the  north. — STANZA  Xin. 

The  Hurons  of  Lorette  were  likewise  called  Onatoghies.  The  Adiron- 
dacks,  or  Algonquins  drove  the  Iroquois  from  their  hunting-grounds  around 
Montreal,  to  the  borders  of  the  Lakes. 

The  latter  having  conquered  the  Satanas,  under  wise  and  warlike  sa- 
chems adopted  the  plan  of  fighting  their  old  enemies  in  small  bands,  instead 
of  trusting  the  issue  of  war  to  a  general  engagement. 

In  turn  the  Adirondacks  were  conquered,  though  aided  by  the  French 
arms,  and  the  war-whoop  of  the  Five  Nations  became  the  knell  of  surroun- 
ding tribes.  The  Niperceneans  were  nearly  exterminated,  and  a  wretched 


NOTES.  221 

remnant  of  them  fled  for  safety  to  Hudson's  Bay.  "The  borders  of  Outa- 
was  which  were  once  thickly  peopled,  became  almost  deserted."  West  of 
the  Alleghanics  tlioy  carried  their  arms,  and  warred  against  most  of  the  na- 
tions of  the  south.  Sec  Herriot,  Canada,  Smith,  Thatcher,  &c. 

_1  man  of  energy  and  wile, 
And  priest  of  t/iat  strange  order  known 
From  clime  to  clime,  and  zone  to  zone, — STANZA  XV. 

The  immediate  design  of  other  religious  societies  was  to  separate  their 
members  from  the  world  ;  that  of  the  Jesuits,  to  render  themselves  masters 
of  it.  They  were  exempt  from  the  usual  functions  of  other  monks,  and 
were  not  required  to  spend  their  time  in  ceremonial  offices  and  mummeries. 
The  meanest  talents  were  in  requisition,  and  according  to  their  own  expres- 
sion "  the  Jesuits  have  missionaries  for  the  villages  and  martyrs  for  the  In- 
dians." Thus  a  peculiar  energy  was  infused  into  their  operations;  which 
has  been  compared  to  a  system  of  mechanism  containing  the  greatest  quality 
of  power  distributed  to  the  greatest  possible  advantage.  "  The  Jesuits,"  it 
was  said  with  justice,  "are  a  naked  sword  whose  hilt  is  Rome."  They 
propagated  a  system  of  the  most  relaxed  morality,  which  accommodated 
itself  to  the  passions  of  men,  justified  their  vices,  tolerated  their  imperfec- 
tions. To  persons  of  the  stricter  principles  they  studied  to  recommend 
themselves  by  the  purity  of  their  lives.  While  looking  with  a  lenient  eye 
on  immoral  practices,  they  were  severe  in  exacting  a  strict  orthodoxy  in 
opinions.  "  They  are  a  set  of  people,"  said  the  Abbe  Boileau,  "  who 
lengthen  the  creed,  and  shorten  the  decalogue.  One  of  their  cardinal  pre- 
cepts was  as  follows:  "Princes  and  distinguished  persons  must  by  all  means 
be  so  managed  that  their  ears  may  be  gained,  which  will  secure  their 
hearts."  They  neither  chaunted  or  prayed.  "They  cannot  sing,"  said  their 
enemies — "  for  birds  of  prey  never  do."  D' Alembert,  Mosheim,  &c, 

Upraised  the  rod  of  mystic  sway 

In  distant  Ind  and  Paragua. 

"In  the  beginning  of  the  17th  century  they  obtained  from  the  court  of 
Madrid,  the  grant  of  the  large  and  fertile  Province  of  Paragua,  which 
stretches  across  the  southern  continent  of  America,  from  the  mountains  of 
Potosi  to  the  banks  of  the  river  La  Plata ;  and  after  every  deduction  which 
can  reasonably  be  made  from  their  own  accounts,  enough  will  remain,  to 
excite  astonishment  and  applause  of  mankind.  By  wise  and  humane  policy 
they  attracted  converts,  till  at  last  they  formed  a  powerful  and  well  orga- 
nized state  of  300,000  families. 

Industry  was  universal,  want  was  unknown.  Even  the  elegant  arts  began 
by  degrees  to  appear,  and  full  protection  was  provided  against  any  inva- 
sion. An  army  of  60,000  men  was  completely  armed,  and  regularly  disci- 
plined, consisting  of  cavalry,  infantry  and  artillery,  and  well  provided  with 
magazines  and  munitions  of  war.  It  would  be  in  vain  to  deny  that  mankind 
derived  advantages  from  the  labors  of  the  Jesuits.  Their  ardor  in  impro- 
ving the  healing  art,  their  skill  in  the  instruction  of  youth  and  love  of  an- 
cient literature,  contributed  to  the  progress  of  polite  learning.  Even  th« 

T2 


222  NOTES. 

debased  species  of  Christianity  which  they  introduced,  was  superior  to  thr 
bloody  rites  of  the  savage."  Edinburg  Encyclopedia,  vol.  xi,  p.  170. 

Like  them  he  painted  face  and  Up, 

And  robed  his  limbs  in  skin  of  beast.— STANZA  xvi. 

The  success  of  the  Jesuits  in  making  converts  among  the  aboriginal  pop- 
ulation of  this  continent,  was  owing  to  a  compliance,  on  their  part,  with 
savage  customs.  France,  in  extending  her  empire  ui  America,  was  more 
aided  by  Jesuitical  intrigue  than  force  of  arm*.  Notwithstanding  the 
friendly  relations  that  existed  brt\vr<>n  tlio  major  portion  of  the  Fire  Nations 
and  the  English,  the  crafty  Jesuits  made  a  diversion  in  favor  of  the  crown 
of  France,  by  sending  their  emissaries  among  them.  "  Devida  et  impera,'" 
was  the  French  motto. 

Father  Joucaire  was  adopted  by  the  Senecas,  and  was  esteemed  by  tin 
Onondagas.  He  lived  among  them  after  their  manner,  and  spoke  the  Indian 
language,  as  Charlevoix  informs  us,  "  avec  la  plus,  sublime  eloquence  Iro- 
quoise." 

CANTO    II. 

.tin!  on  her  bosom  brightly  shone 
An  amulet  of  mystic  stone. — STANZA  in. 

"Among  a  people  in  the  infancy  of  reflection  and  improvement,  the  deities 
themselves  are  not  so  much  the  objects  of  attention,  as  the  great  changes 
and  revolutions  of  nature,  to  which  they  are  conceived  to  give  rise.  To 
avert  the  calamities  which  threaten  them,  is,  therefore,  the  chief  concern 
of  the  rude  tribe's  scattered  over  the  American  continent. 

In  order  to  effectuate  this  purpose,  they  have  not  recourse,  as  among  na- 
tions more  civilized,  to  prayers  and  penance,  offerings  and  victims  ;  but  to 
charms,  amulets,  and  incantations,  which  are  fancied  to  have  the  power  of 
saving  them  from  all  events  of  a  disastrous  nature."  Edinburg  Encyclo- 
pedia, vol.  1,  p.  597. 

The  shambling  elk  shrill  whistle  ^or r .  —STANZA  vn. 
Dr.  Smith  says,  "the  hunters  assure  us  that  the  elk  possesses  the  power, 
by  strictly  closing  the  nostrils,  of  forcing  the  air  through  these  apertures 
(meaning  a  slit  or  depression  below  the  inner  angle  of  each  eye  Called  by 
French  naturalists  larmiers,")  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  a  noise  which 
may  be  heard  at  a  great  distance."  This  however,  is  inaccurate  ;  it  is  true 
that  the  elk,  when  alarmed,  or  his  attention  is  strongly  excitad,  makes  a 
whistling  noisr  at  the  moment  these  lachrymal  appendages  are  opened,  and 
vibrates  in  a  peculiar  manner.  But  having  dissected  these  appendages  in 
an  elk,  recently  dead,  we  are  perfectly  assured  that  there*  is  no  communi- 
cation between  the  nostrils  of  the  animal  and  these  sacs."  Godman's 
Natural  History,  vol.  ii,  p.  2D8* 

And  arrotcs  bound  by  fearful  tether 
The  skin  of  rattlesnake  together.^ST±nt\  XI. 

Many  tribes  of  the  continent,  particularly  the  New-England  Indians, 
were  in  the  habit  of  sending  messengers  to  kindred  nations  on  the  eve  of 


• 

NOTES.  223 

battle  with  a  common  enemy,  bearing  a  sheaf  of  arrows  bound  together  by 
the  skin  of  the  rattlesnake.  The  rude  symbol  was  an  invitation  to  dig  up 
the  hatchet. 

Where  the  roar  of  the  Upper  Falls  is  heard.— STANZA  xn. 

" At  Portasrovillr,  about  fifteen  miles  from  the  angle  at  Caneadea,  begin 
the  great  Portage  Falls  in  this  fiver.  From  the  Upper  Falls  to  Mount 
Morris  andSquawkie  Hill,  a  distance  of  sixteen  miles,  the  river  runs  through 
a  chasm,  the  sides  of  which  are  the  greater  part  of  the  distance  formed  by 
solid  and  almost  or  quite  perpendicular  walls  of  rock,  from  two  to  four 
hundred  feet  high.  In  some  places,  however,  these  walls  diverge  so  far  from 
each  other,  as  to  allow  spots  of  excellent  alluvial  flats  to  be  formed  on  one 
side  of  the  river  or  the  other,  and  in  some  places  on  both. 

Immediately  above  the  Upper  Falls,  there  exists  all  the  appearance  of  a 
ridge  of  rock  having  once  run  across  the  river,  in  which  case  it  would  have 
raised  the  water  some  two  hundred  feet  above  its  present  level}  and  of 
course  formed  a  lake  from  one  to  two  miles  wide,  and  extending  back  over 
the  Caneadea  and  other  flats,  to  Belvidere,  a  distance  of  twenty-eight  or 
thirty  miles;  but  if  ever  this  was  the  case,  the  river  has  centuries  ago  cut 
through  this  ridge  and  formed  considerable  rapids  where  it  stood,  above  and 
opposite  Portageville.  The  river,  after  apparently  cutting  through  this 
ridge,  precipitates  itself  into  the  chasm  below,  by  a  somewhat  broken,  al- 
though what  would  be  termed  perpendicular  fall  of  sixty  feet.  The  stream 
at  this  place  is  about  twelve  rods  wide,  after  which  it  flows  through  a  chasm 
on  a  smooth  rock  bottom.  Half  a  mile  below  the  Upper  Falls,  the  river 
(where  it  is  about  fifteen  rods  wide)  again  precipitates  itself,  in  an  unbroken 
sheet,  one  hundred  and  ten  feet  perpendicularly  into  a  deeper  channel, 
forming  the  "Middle  Falls."  The  magnificence  and  beauty  of  these  falls  is 
not  exceeded  by  anything  in  the  state,  except  the  cataract  of  Niagara. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  river  at  the  top  of  the  falls,  is  a  small  flat  piece  of 
land,  or  rather  rock,  which  can  be  approached  down  a  ravine  from  the  west, 
with  any  kind  of  carriage.  The  stream  ptirsues  its  course  in  the  same  di- 
rection, pent  within  its  rock-bound  and  precipitous  shores,  about  two  miles, 
where  it  takes  its  third  and  last  leap  in  th»s  vicinity,  of  ninety-three  feet, 
into  a  still  deeper  chasm ;  the  greater  body  of  water  falling  on  the  eastern 
side,  where  a  portion  of  it  falls  into  a  kind  of  hanging  rock  basin,  about 
one-third  of  the  distance  down,  and  then  takes  another  leap. 

This  fall  can  be  approached  on  the  east  side  by  pedestrians  with  perfect 
safety.  The  river  then  pursues  its  north-eastern  course  through  its  deep 
and  narrow  channel  to  Gardow  Flats,  about  five  miles  from  the  lower  falls. 
The  banks  of  the  river,  or  rather  the  land  bordering  on  the  chasm,  the 
greater  portion  of  this  distance,  is  covered  with  elegant  white  and  Norway 
pine."  Mix. 

The  mighty  War- God  of  my  race, 

"Ilparoit,  madame,  que  dans  ces  chansons  on  invoque  le  dieu  de  la 
guerre,  que  les  Hurons  appellant  Areskoui  et  les  Iroquois  Agreskoue.  Je 
ne  sai  pas  quel  nom  on  lui  donne  donne  dans  les  langues  Algonquines." 
''•I/  Areskoni  des  Hurons  et  1'  Agreskoue  des  Iroquois est  dans  1'opinion  de 


224  NOTES. 

ces  pcuples  le  souverain  etre  el  le  Dieu  de  la  Guerre."    Charlevoix,  iii.  207— 
344. 

Old  Can-ne-hoot  and  chiefs  convene: — STANZA  xvn. 
The  name  of  the  Indian  hero,  who  figures  in  the  author's  poenfTbelongs  to 
the  stirring  history  of  the  period,  though  poetical  license  has  been  taken 
in  ending  his  career  with  the  battle;  for  he-  \va-  jire-ent  :it  a  general  coun- 
cil of  the  confederates  holden  at  Onomlagn,  in  January,  1690,  as  appears  by 
the  following  extract  from  Thatcher.  "  Cuii-ne-hout,  tii  hem, 

next  proceeded  to  give  the  council  a  p:irtieul:ir  account  of  a  treaty  made 
during  the  summer  previous,  between  his  owu  tribe  and  the  Wayuuhos." 

Again  that  startling  cry  was  heard. — STANZA  xx. 

By  mimicking  the  cry  of  beast  or  bird,  known  to  frequent  the  place  from 
which  the  sound  proceeds,  an  Indian  scout  communicates  good  or  evil  ti- 
dings to  his  tribe  ;  when  a  party  of  warriors  stop  on  their  route  to  lie  in 
ambush  for  enemies  they  understand  to  be  out  against  them,  they  range 
themselves  cautiously  on  both  sides  the  expected  path,  frequently  in  a  half 
moon  line,  and  as  far  apart  as  they  can  hear  the  travelling  signal  from  each 
other,  which  is  either  a  low  whistle,  or  cry  of  some  wild  creature  of  the 
woods  imitated  with  surprising  accuracy.  See  Adair  and  Charlevoix. 

Tall  orchards  near  the  river-shore, 
Tie  germs  of  bright  abundance  bore.— STANZA  xxn. 
The  remains  of  an  extensive  Indian  orchard  may  still  be  seen  on  the  wes- 
tern bank  of  the  Genesee.    The  wind-bowed  and  mossy  trunks  have  a  de- 
solate appearance,  as  if  they  shared  in  the  miseries  of  the  race  who  planted 
them.     The  early  settlers  of  Avon,  discovered  peach-trees  growing  in  the 
forest  on  the  site  of  an  old  cornfield  of  ihc  Indians,  the  fruit  of  which  was 
of  good  flavor. 

A  rugged  structure  lotc  and  long. — STANZA  xxm. 

A  tow  years  since,  the  council  house  at  Cannewaugus,  was  standing. 
When  la-t  vi.-ited  by  the  author,  it  was  in  a  state  of  decay — the  roof,  over- 
laid with  bark,  was  falling  in,  and  the  storm  had  partly  beaten  down  the 
walls.  The  building  was  low  and  about  sixty  feet  in  length.  In  the  centre 
of  the  roof,  which  was  bark  bent  to  a  rounded  form  over  the  ridge  pole,  was 
an  open  place  for  the  escape  of  smoke  when  the  elders  of  the  tribe  were 
convened  in  grave  deliberation.  The  confederation  of  the  Iroquois,  stretch- 
ing from  the  Hudson  to  Lake  Erie,  was  often  compared  by  their  orators  to 
a  council  house.  In  the  speech  of  condolence,  addressed  by  the  Mohawk 
chiefs  to  the  inhabitants  of  Albany,  after  the  destruction  of  Schenectady, 
the  perfidy  of  the  French  is  thus  portrayed.  "  Brethren,  we  do  not  think 
that  what  the  French  have  done  can  be  called  a  victory  :  it  is  only  a  farther 
proof  of  their  cruel  deceit :  the  Governor  of  Canada  sent  to  Onoudaga,  and 
talks  to  us  of  peace  with  our  whole  house ;  but  war  was  in  his  heart,  as  you 
now  see  by  woful  experience.  He  did  the  same,  formerly  at  Cadaracqui,  and 
in  the  Seneca's  country.  This  is  the  third  time  he  has  acted  so  deceitfully 


NOTES.  225 

He  has  broken  open  our  house  at  both  ends;  formerly  in  the  Senecas'  coun- 
try, and  now  here.    We  hope,  however,  to  be  revenged  of  them." 

The  chichikon,full  loudly  blown, 

Gave  out  lugubrious  monotone. 

The  chichikon  is  formed  of  a  thick  cane  upwards  of  two  feet  in  length, 
with  eight  or  nine  holes,  and  a  mouth-piece  not  unlike  that  of  a  common 
whistle. 

From  some,  on  crimson  hoop  extended. — STANZA  xxvr. 
Scalps  preserved  as  trophies  of  victory,  were  cured,  hooped  and  painted 
by  the  Indians  with  marks  on  the  flesh  side  expressive  of  the  age  and  sex 
of  the  slain.  Jn  the  letter  of  James  Crawford  to  Col.  Haldlman,  Governor 
of  Canada,  appended  to  Stone's  Life  of  Brant,  is  a  description  of  eight 
packages  of  scalps  taken  by  the  Seneca  Indians  from  the  inhabitants  of 
New- York.  To  denote  scalps  taken  from  farmers  killed  in  their  houses, 
the  skin  was  painted  brown  and  marked  with  a  hoe— a  black  circle  signi- 
fied that  they  were  surprised  in  the  night,  and  a  black  hatchet  in  the  mid- 
dle that  they  were  killed  with  that  weapon.  The  hair  on  the  scalps  of  the 
women  was  braided  in  the  Indian  fashion,  to  show  that  they  were  mothers. 
The  hoops  were  blue,  skin  yellow  ground,  with  little  red  tadpoles,  to  rep- 
resent, by  way  of  triumph,  the  tears  of  grief  occasioned  to  their  relations. 
Seventeen  gray-haired  scalps  were  stretched  on  black  hoops  of  brown  color, 
with  no  mark  but  the  short  club  or  cassetete,  to  show  they  were  knocked 
down  dead,  or  had  their  brains  beaten  out ! 

For  daggers  wrought  of  flint  and  bone, 
With  fell  intent  were  round  him  bared. — STANZA  xxvnr. 
The  ancient  dagger  of  the  Senecas  was  an  implement,  shaped,  with  great 
labor,  from  bone  and  flint.    The  author  is  in  possession  of  one  made  of 
the  latter  material,  tne  blade  of  which,  after  swelling  In  ine  middle,  tapers 
to  a  rugged  point.     Bone   daggers  have  been  found  in  Lima,  Livingston 
County,  by  citizens  while  working  on  the  highway,  shaped  with  elegance, 
and  elaborately  polished. 

CANTO  III. 

Wake,  children  of  Ge-nun-de-wah  ! 

The  tradition  of  the  Seneca  Indians,  in  regard  to  their  birth,  is  that  they 
broke  out  of  the  earth  from  a  large  mountain  at  the  head  of  Canandaigua 
Lake,  and  that  mountain  they  still  venerate  as  the  place  of  their  birth ; 
thence  they  derive  their  name,  "  Ge-nun-de-wah,"  or  Great  Hill,  and  are 
called  "The  Great  Hill  People,"  which  is  the  true  definition  of  the  word 
Seneca.  The  great  hill  at  the  head  of  Canandaigua  Lake  from  whence  they 
sprung,  is  called  Ge-nun-de-wah,  and  has  for  a  long  time  past  been  the 
place  where  the  Indians  of  that  nation  met  in  council,  to  hold  great  talks, 
and  to  offer  up  prayers  to  the  Great  Spirit,  on  account  of  its  having  been 
their  birth-place ;  and  also  in  consequence  of  the  destruction  of  a  serpent 


NOTES. 

at  that  place  in  ancient  lime,  in  a  most  miraculous  manner,  which  threat- 
ened the  whole  of  the  Senecas,  and  barely  spared  enough  to  commence 
replenishing  the  earth.  The  Indians  say  that  the  Fort  on  the  Big  Hill  or 
Ge-nun-de-wah,  near  the  head  of  Canandaigua  Lake,  was  surrounded  by  a 
monstrous  serpent,  whose  head  and  tail  came  together  at  the  gate.  A  long 
time  it  lay  there,  confounding  the  people  with  its  breath.  At  length  they 
attempted  to  make  their  escape,  some  with  their  homminy-blocks,  and  oth- 
ers with  different  implements  of  household  furniture  ;  and  in  marching  out 
of  the  Fort,  walked  down  the  throat  of  the  serpent.  Two  orphan  children, 
who  had  escaped  this  general  destruction  by  being  left  some  time  before  on 
the  outside  of  the  Fort,  were  informed  by  an  oracle,  of  the  means  by  which 
they  could  get  rid  of  their  formidable  enemy  ;  which  was,  to  take  a  small 
bow  and  a  poisoned  arrow,  made  of  a  kind  of  willow,  and  wifc  that  shoot x 
the  serpent  under  its  scales.  This  they  did,  and  the  arrow  proved  effectual ; 
for  on  its  penetrating  the  skin,  the  serpent  became  sick,  and,  extending 
itself,  rolled  down  the  hill,  destroying  all  the  timber  that  was  in  its  way. 
At  every  motion  a  human  head  was  discharged,  and  rolled  down  the  hill 
into  the  lake,  where  they  lie  at  this  day  In  a  petrified  state,  having  the  hard- 
ness and  appearance  of  stones;  and  the  pagan  Indians  of  the  Senecas  be- 
lieve that  all  the  little  snakes  were  made  of  the  blood  of  the  great  serpent 
after  it  rolled  into  the  lake.  To  this  day  tho  Indians  visit  that  sacred  place 
to  mourn  the  loss  of  their  friends,  and  to  celebrate  some  rites  that  are  pe- 
culiar to  themselves.  To  the  knowledge  of  white  people  there  has  been  no 
timber  on  the  Great  Hill  since  it  was  first  discovered  by  them,  though  it  lay 
apparently  in  a  state  of  nature  for  a  great  number  of  years,  without  culti- 
vation. Stones  in  the  shape  of  Indians'  heads  may  be  seen  lying  in  the 
lake  in  great  plenty,  which  are  said  to  be  the  same  that  were  deposited 
there  at  the  death  of  the  serpent."  Life  of  Mary  Jemison. 
Some,  from  long  pipe*  of  purple  stain, 

•ill-tint  of  battle,  smoked. — STANZA  in. 

'•  Th'%  calumet  and  all  its  ornaments,  when  they  treat  of  war,  are  painted 
red.  Tho  size  of  tin-  pipe  and  the  degree  of  decoration  correspond  to  the 
importance  of  the  occasion. "  Indian  Wars.  When  war  is  contemplated , 
the  tomahawk  is  also  colored  with  red. 

On  bosoms  bare  the  figure*  rude 
Of  wolf  and  turtle  were  tattoo"  d. — STANZA  iv. 

Each  Indian  nation  has  a  distinct  ensign,  generally  consisting  of  some 
beast,  bird  or  fish ;  and  the  pictures  of  these  animals  are  pricked  or  pain- 
ted on  the  arms  or  breast.  The  known  mark  of  a  tribe  or  chief  on  the  per- 
son of  a  captive,  is  a  protection  from  danger  at  other  hands.  Brant,  at  the 
destruction  of  Cherry  Valley,  saved  a  woman  and  her  children  by  painting 
his  cognizance  upon  them.  See  Stone's  Life  of  Brant.  "  Each  of  the  Five 
Nations  is  divided  into  three  families  of  different  ranks,  bearing  for  their 
arms,  and  being  distinguished  hy  the  names  of  the  tortoise,  the  bear  and 
the  wolf."  SMITH.  "Sometimes  the  design  of  a  military  expedition  is 
painted  on  the  naked  trunk  of  a  tree.  By  a  deer,  a  fox  or  some  other  em- 
blems, we  discover  against  what  nation  they  are  gone  out"  SMITH. 


NOTES.  227 

He  swears  like  them  no  fear  to  know 
When  stake-bound  by  exulting  /oe.^BxANZA  V. 

"  It  is  the  first  and  the  last  study  of  the  American  Indians,  to  acquire  the 
faculty  of  suffering  with  an  obstinate  and  heroic  courage  when  their  forti- 
tude is  put  to  the  proof.  They  harden  their  fibres  by  repeated  trials,  and 
accustom  themselves  to  endure  the  most  tormenting  pain  without  a  groan 
or  a  tear.  In  the  northern  division  of  the  Continent,  a  boy  and  a  girl  will 
put  a  flaming  coal  between  their  naked  arms,  and  vie  with  another  in  main- 
taining  it  in  its  place.  (CHARLEVOIX  in.  307.)  "Forbear,"  said  an  aged 
chief  of  the  Iroquois  to  the  French  Indians,  "  forbear  these  stabs  of  your 
knife  ;  and  rather  let  me  die  by  fire,  that  those  dogs,  your  allies,  may  learn, 
by  my  example,  to  suffer  like  men." 

His  arm,  with  grace  unstudied,  raised. — STANZA  vi. 
"  Their  speakers  deliver  themselves  with  surprising  force,  and  great  pro- 
priety of  gesture.  The  fierceness  of  their  countenances,  the  flowing  blan- 
ket, elevated  tone,  naked  arm  and  erect  stature,  with  a  half  circle  of  audi- 
tors seated  on  the  ground,  and  in  the  open  air,  cannot  but  impress  upon  the 
mind  a  lively  idea  of  the  ancient  orators  of  Greece  and  Rome."  SMITH. 

The  prowling  Eries  of  the  Lake. — STANZA  vir. 

The  career  of  victory  which  began  with  the  fall  of  the  Adirondack  s,  was 
destined  to  be  extended  beyond  all  precedent  in  the  history  of  the  Indian 
tribes.  They  (the  Iroquois)  exterminated  the  Eries  or  Erigas,  once  living 
on  the  south  side  of  the  lake  of  their  own  name.  They  nearly  destroyed 
the  powerful  Anderstez,  and  the  Chouanons  or  Showanons.  They  drove 
back  the  Hurons  and  Ottawas  among  the  Sioux  of  the  Upper  Mississippi, 
where  they  separated  themselves  into  bands,  "  proclaiming,  wherever  they 
went,  the  terror  of  the  Iroquois."  HKRRICK. 

And  a  slow  dance,  with  measured  tread, 
Around  the  painted  war-post  led. — STANZA  xr. 

"  When  war  is  the  result  of  their  deliberations,  a  chief  marches  round  in 
a  circle,  inviting  those  who  are  for  war  to  join  in  the  circuitous  march, 
while  a  war-song  serves  to  rouse  their  patriotic  zeal  to  the  highest  pitch,  till 
the  whole  assembly,  kindling  into  the  same  ardor,  becomes  impatient  to  be 
led  against  the  enemy."  The  following  list  of  the  dances  in  use  among  the 
North  American  Indians,  has  been  given  by  Mr.  Long  : — 

1.  The  Calumet  Dance.  6.  The  Dead  Dance. 

2.  The  War  Dance,  7.  The  Prisoner's  Dunee, 

3.  The  Chief's  Dance,  8.  The  Return  Dance, 

4.  The  Set  out  Dance,  9.  The  Spear  Dance, 

5.  The  Scalp  Dance,  10.  The  Marriage  Dance, 

11.  The  Sacrifice  Dance. 

Of  these,  the  war  dance  is  the  most  remarkable,  and  is  frequently  com- 
posed of  several  of  the  other  dances.  It  is  the  exact  image  of  an  Indian 
campaign.  It  represents  the  departure  of  their  warriors,  their  arrival  at  the 
confines  of  the  hostile  nation,  their  method  of  encampment,  the  attack,  fho 


228  NOTES. 

scalping  of  such  as  fall  into  their  hands,  the  return  of  the  victorious  tribe, 
and  the  tortures  and  heqpsm  of  the  prisoners.  In  performing  these  parts, 
the  savages  exhibit  a  wonderful  dexterity ;  and  enter  into  them  with  such 
enthusiasm,  that  European  spectators  have  forgotten  for  a  moment  that  it 
was  only  a  representation,  and  have  shuddered  at  the  imaginary  scene.  See 
Lafitan,  Charlevoix  5. 

With  our  totem  erased  by  the  knife. — STANZA  xn. 

For  cowardice  in  battle,  an  Indian  is  condemned  to  lose  his  totem,  a  pun- 
ishment more  to  be  dreaded  than  a  lingering  torture  at  the  stake,  be  depri- 
ved of  his  name,  and  live  a  drudge  in  the  lodge  of  some  warrior,  clad  in  the 
petticoat  of  a  squaw. 

While  scalps  on  red  pole  by  the  bravest  are  borne. 

In  returning  from  a  successful  expedition,  the  bravest  warrior  of  the  band 
bears  the  scalps,  stretched  over  hoops,  and  elevated  upon  a  long  red  pole. 
See  Life  of  Mary  Jamison,  p.  39. 

On-ffui-hon-wi  unite  in  one  legion  of  dread. 

'•And  they  were,  indeed,  at  all  times  ready  (the  Iroquois)  and  wilting  to 
cherish  the  sentiment  of  exaltation  whjch  they  felt :  they  called  themselves 
"  On-qui-hori'tri,"  that  is,  men  surpassing  all  others  CLINTON. 

In  view  arose  a  gloomy  square. — STANZA  xviii. 

"  Whenever  a  considerable  number  of  huts  are  collected,  they  have  a 
castle,  as  it  is  called,  consisting  of  a  square  without  bastions,  surrounded 
with  palisadoes.  They  have  no  other  fortification  ;  and  this  is  only  de- 
signed as  an  asylum  for  their  old  men,  their  wives  and  children,  while  the 
rest  are  gone  out  to  war."  Smith. 

The  wealth  of  that  enchanted  isle, 
Chased  rainly  on  the  waters  blue.— STANZA  xnt. 

"They  further  say  that  these  hunters  had  a  view  of  the  settlements  of 
this  peculiar  Indian  race,  whose  women  are  incomparably  beautiful,  situa- 
ted on  the  banks  of  an  island,  a  terrestrial  paradise,  in  a  beautiful  lake ;  but 
that  in  their  endeavors  to  approach  it,  they  were  in  perpetual  labyrinths, 
ami,  like  enchanled  land,  still  as  they  imagined  they  had  first  gained  it,  it 
se.-med  i"  lly  b-'fure  them,  alternately  appearing  and  disappearing.'"  Bar- 
.  <  Travels. 

Long  as  that  martial  lock  of  hair 
Streams  like  a  flag  in  troubled  air. — STANZA  XX. 

The  same  chivalrous  principle  of  action  that  prompts  the  civilized  soldier 
to  preserve  the  colors  of  his  regiment  from  the  disgrace  of  capture,  incites 
direst  warrior,  though  faint  with  a  deaih-wound,  to  preserve  his 
scalp  from  drying  in  the  lodge  of  an  enemy.  This  trait  of  Indian  character 
is  well  illustrated  by  the  personal  combat,  in  Cooper's  Prairie,  between 
Mahtoree  and  Hard  Heart.  The  latter  having  received  a  mortal  wound, 
with  a  last  effort  plunges  into  the  stream,  hoping  vainly  that  the  tide  would 
rob  his  Pawnee  foe  of  the  trophy  that  he  so  much  craved. 


NOTES.  229 

May  Utco  bear  to  realms  of  night.— STANZA  xxm. 
The  author's  mother,  who  speaks  the  Seneca  fluently,  informed  him  that 
by  using  the  term  Utco,  the  Indian  referred  to  the  diabolical  power  from 
which  witches  and  wizards  derive  their  spirit  of  mischief.  This  Great 
Doer  of  Evil  dwells  in  an  abode  of  darkness,  and  controls  a  countless  num- 
ber of  subordinate  ministers  of  ill  who  must  daily  perform  their  allotted 
tasks — some  sowing  the  seeds  of  disease  and  death,  while  others  bring 
blight  to  the  corn-field,  scare  the  deer,  and  derange  the  hunter's  aim. 

CANTO    IV. 

Romans  of  the  West ! 

The  Iroquois  bore  this  proud  appellation,  not  only  by  conquest  over  other 
tribes,  but  by  encouraging  the  people  of  other  nations  to  incorporate  with 
them ;  "  a  Roman  principle,"  says  Thatcher,  "  recognized  in  the  practice 
as  well  as  theory  of  these  lords  of  the  forest." 

While  well  the  hindmost  of  the  line 
From  view  concealed  betraying  sign. — STANZA  V. 

The  wonderful  sagacity  of  the  North  American  savage  on  a  march,  or 
pursuit  of  foe  through  a  forest,  is  too  well  known  to  require  much  com- 
ment. On  emergency,  they  put  the  hinder  part  of  their  snow  shoes  for- 
ward, so  that  if  their  footsteps  should  happen  to  be  observed  by  a  vigilant 
enemy,  it  might  be  supposed  they  had  taken  a  contrary  direction.  "  Some- 
times they  fix  the  broad  hoofs  of  buffaloes  or  bears'  paws  upon  their  feet,  to 
deceive  the  foe ;  and  for  miles  together,  they  will  make  all  the  customary 
windings  of  those  animals  in  the  woods.  The  warrior  who  brings  up  the 
rear,  lifts  to  a  natural  position  the  broad  grass,  and  '  they  march,  one  man 
behind  the  other,  treading  carefully  in  each  other's  steps,  so  that  their  num- 
ber may  not  be  ascertained  by  the  prints  of  their  feet.'  "  HBCKEWELDER. 

Where  light  pirogues  of  whitewood  lay, 

Fashioned  and  hollowed  out  alone 

By  eating  fire  and  gouge  of  stone. 

Their  canoes  were  of  two  kinds  :  one  was  made  of  a  large  log  excavated 
the  inside  burned  and  wrought  by  a  stone  gouge,  and  the  outside  shaped  by 
their  stone  axe.  The  second  kind  was  made  of  birchen  bark.  "  The  pi- 
rogues or  war  canoes  of  the  Indians  are  constructed  by  hollowing  the 
trunks  of  large  trees  with  much  labor  and  patience  ;  and,  notwithstanding 
their  bulk  and  gravity,  they  are  moved  dexterously  through  the  water.  The 
pirogue  is  often  large  enough  to  contain  fifty  persons ;  and  in  most  instan- 
ces, the  workmanship  is  so  neat,  and  the  ornaments  so  splendid,  as  to  be 
thought  utterly  beyond  the  execution  of  savages  ignorant  of  the  harder  me- 
tals. The  trunk  of  a  tree  which  they  have  cut  down,  and  which  they  design 
to  form  into  a  canoe,  often  begins  to  rot  before  their  labor  is  at  an  end. 
Their  chisel  was  of  stone,  sharpened  to  an  edge.  Ignorant  of  iron,  their 
hatchets  and  axes  were  made  of  stone.  Their  use  dictated  a  similar  shape 
U 


230  NOTES. 

to  ours.  A  young  sapling  was  split  near  the  ground,  the  head  of  the  axe 
thrust  into  it,  and  a  handle  formed  with  inconsiderable  labor.  See  Gumilla, 
Lafitan,  Mceurs  ii.  213,  ajid  Indian  Wars. 

His  favorite  hound,  of  courage  tried. 
And  weapons  buried  by  his  side.— STANZA  x. 

"They  bury  with  the  dead,  food, bows  and  arrows,  pipes  and  whatsoever 
pleased  them  while  living,  or  might  be  necessary  in  the  country  of  souls. 
They  believe  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  without  the  aid  of  metaphysics. 
The  Chicung,  the  shadow,  that  which  survives  the  body,  they  grossly  ima- 
gine, will,  at  death,  go  into  some  unknown  but  curious  place."  Indian  Wars. 
They  give  the  first  place  in  the  land  of  spirits  to  the  courageous  warrior 
who  has  put  to  death  the  greatest  number  of  his  enemies,  and  to  the  hun. 
ter  who  has  distinguished  himself  the  most  in  the  exertions  of  the  chase ; 
and  it  is  their  practice  to  bury  the  hatchet  and  the  bow  of  a  leader  in  the 
game  grave  with  his  body,  that  he  may  not  be  destitute  of  arms  when  he 
enters  upon  the  future  world.  They  likewise  deposit  in  his  tomb  the  skins 
and  stuffs  of  which  then-  garments  are  made,  corn,  venison,  drugs,  utensils 
and  animals  of  different  kinds,  and  whatever  else  they  hold  to  be  necessary 
or  convenient  in  their  simple  estimate  of  life."  De  La  Potherie  and  Col- 
den,  Five  Nations,  i.  17. 

"The  Omaha  Chief,  Black-bird,  after  death,  was  placed  erect  on  his  war- 
horae,  and,  followed  by  the  braves  he  had  often  led  to  battle,  conveyed  to 
his  sepulchre  on  a  high  bluff  overlooking  the  Missouri.  The  horse,  alive, 
was  forced  into  the  grave  with  his  dead  rider,  and  thus  inhumed."  Appen- 
dix  to  the  Gazetteer  of  Missouri. 

Some  tribes  erect  a  scaffold,  by  planting  four  large  stakes  in  the  ground, 
eight  feet  high,  and  five  by  three  apart,  across  the  tops  of  which  are  laid 
poles,  on  which  the  bark  coffin,  enclosing  the  body,  rests.  A  correspond- 
ent of  the  New-Yorker  thus  alludes  to  a  scaffold  of  this  description.  "  A 
few  years  since,  a  sarcophagus  was  erected  on  the  west  bank  of  Rock  Ri- 
ver, about  two  miles  below  the  junction  of  the  Pecatonic,  wherein  was  laid 
an  Indian  girl.  It  remained  till  about  a  year  since,  when  decay  and  the 
winds  swept  it  away,  and  left  nothing  but  the  stakes  on  which  it  was  reared, 
which  are  yet  standing." 

With  war-club  thickly  notched,  that  told 
Hov>  mighty  were  the  men  of  old. — STANZA  xni. 

The  Indian  warrior  cuts  scalp-notches  upon  the  handle  of  his  hatchet, 
significant  of  the  number  of  enemies  that  he  has  slain.  "  In  order  to  com- 
memorate great  events  and  preserve  the  chronology  of  them,  the  war-chief 
in  each  tribe  keeps  a  war-post  This  post  is  a  peeled  stick  of  timber,  ten 
or  twelve  feet  high,  that  is  erected  in  the  town.  For  a  campaign,  they  make, 
or  rather  the  chief  makes,  a  perpendicular  red  mark,  about  three  inches 
long  and  half  an  inch  wide ;  on  the  opposite  side  of  this,  for  a  scalp,  they 
make  a  red  cross,  thus  t ;  on  another  side,  for  a  prisoner  taken  alive,  they 
make  a  red  cross,  in  this  manner,  £  ,  with  a  head  or  dot  j  and  by  placing 
•uch  significant  hieroglyphics  in  so  conspicuous  a  situation,  they  are  ena- 


NOTES.  231 

bled  to  ascertain,  with  great  certainty,  the  time  and  circumstances  of  past 
events.  Hiokatoo  had  a  war-post  on  which  were  recorded  his  military  ex- 
ploits, and  other  things  that  he  thought  worth  preserving."  Life  of  Mary 
Jemison. 

And  the  lone  muckawiss  was  heard, 
That  solemn  and  prophetic  bird. — STANZA.  XV. 

The  Indian  name  for  the  whippowil,  says  Carver,  is  "muckawiss." 
"As  soon  as  night  comes  on,  these  birds  will  place  themselves  on  the  fen- 
ces, stumps  or  stones  that  lie  near  some  house,  and  repeat  their  melan- 
choly notes,  without  any  variation,  till  midnight.  The  Indians  and  some  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  back  settlements  think  if  this  bird  perches  upon  any 
house,  that  it  betokens  some  mishap  to  the  inhabitants  of  it."  CARVER. 

The  march  in  long  and  ordered  line. — STANZA  xvni. 
"  They  march  in  a  line  of  individual  warriors,  and  preserve  a  dead 
silence."    Some  of  the  Indian  nations  resemble  the  Tartars  in  the  con- 
struction of  their  canoes,  implements  of  war  and  the  chase,  with  the  well- 
known  habit  of  marching  in  Indian  file."    Priest's  Amer.  Antiq. 

Mickinac  sate  on  a  fallen  tree, 
And  of  savory  nokehike  partook. — STANZA  xxx. 

"  We  retain  some  Indian  modes  of  cookery.  Their  green  corn,  when 
either  roasted  or  boiled,  is  excellent.  Their  hommony  consists  of  corn 
bruised  and  soaked  or  boiled.  Their  nokehike  is  parched  corn  pounded. 
Suckatash,  a  mixture  of  green  corn  and  beans,  is  become  a  very  common 
dish.  Upaquontop  is  the  head  of  a  bass  boiled,  and  the  broth  thickened 
with  hommony,  which  is  one  of  their  richest  delicacies."  Indian  Wars. 

Go  home,  and  look  for  Mickinac  ?— STANZA  XXXI. 

"The  first  principle  which  is  instilled  into  the  breast  of  a  savage,  is  re- 
venge. Time  cannot  efface  the  remembrance  of  an  injury ;  it  is  cherished 
and  kept  alive  with  the  most  studious  care  ;  like  the  hereditary  feuds  of 
Scottish  clans,  it  even  goes  down  from  one  generation  to  another,  with  all 
its  associated  feelings,  and  with  these  feelings  in  all  their  exercise.  The 
blood  of  the  offender  can  alone  expiate  the  transgression.  If  the  domain 
appropriated  to  hunting  be  invaded,  or  if  an  individual  of  a  tribe  be  cut  off", 
the  desire  of  vengeance  swells  in  every  breast  with  instinctive  emotion,  and 
instantly  kindles  into  rage.  It  sparkles  in  every  eye,  and  gives  activity  to 
every  limb.  Months  and  years  roll  away,  and  the  purpose  of  vengeance 
continues  deep  in  the  heart,  and  it  shows  itself  in  tremendous  execution 
when  it  is  least  expected  or  feared.  The  Indian  fights,  not  less  to  satiate  his 
revenge,  than  to  conquer  his  enemies ;  and  that  destructive  passion  is  not 
gratified  till  he  has  glutted  himself  with  the  blood  of  the  hostile  tribe,  and 
rejoiced  in  the  extinction  of  its  name.  Even  the  women  seem  to  be  anima- 
ted with  this  destructive  and  restless  principle."  Edinburg  Encyclopedia, 
vol.  i.  p.  591. 

And  a  low,  mournful  death- hymn  sang. 


232  NOTES. 


CANTO    V. 

On  the  creek's  bottom  then  he  strode. — STANZA  VI. 

When  opportunity  offers,  on  a  retreat,  the  Indian  warrior  walks  in  the 
bed  of  streams,  for  he  well  knows  that  a  savage  enemy  npon  his  trail  will 
pursue  the  traces  of  man  and  beast,  by  observing  with  aculeness  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  grass  and  leaves.  "  Some  of  the  French  missionaries  have 
supposed  that  the  Indians  are  guided  by  instinct,  and  have  pretended  that 
Lidian  children  can  find  their  way  through  a  forest  as  easily  as  a  person 
of  mature  years ;  but  this  is  a  most  absurd  notion.  It  is  unquestionably  by 
a  close  attention  to  the  growth  of  the  trees  and  position  of  the  sun,  that 
they  find  their  way.  OnHhe  northern  side  of  a  tree  there  is  generally  the 
most  moss ;  and  the  bark  on  that  side,  in  general,  differs  from  that  on  the 
opposite  one.  The  branches  toward  the  south  are,  for  the  most  part,  more 
luxuriant  than  those  on  the  other  sides  of  trees  ;  and  several  other  distinc- 
tions subsist  between  the  northern  and  southern  sides,  conspicuous  to  Indi- 
ans, being  taught  from  their  infancy  to  attend  to  them,  which  a  common 
observer  would,  perhaps,  never  notice.  Being  accustomed  from  their  in- 
fancy, likewise,  to  pay  great  attention  to  the  position  of  the  sun,  they  learn 
to  make  the  most  accurate  allowance  for  its  apparent  motion  from  one  part 
of  the  heavens  to  another ;  and  in  every  hour  of  the  day,  they  will  point  to 
the  part  of  the  heavens  where  it  is,  although  the  sky  be  obscured  by  clouds 
or  mists."  WBLD. 

A  hill  once  strongly  fortified, 
Down  sloping  to  the  toater-ftJe.— -STANZA  vm. 

The  hill  referred  to  in  the  text,  is  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Conesus 
Creek,  and  is  railed  "Fort  Hill"  by  the  inhabitants.  The  first  settlers  of 
the  country  say  that  it  was  an  open  place  in  the  heart  of  the  forest,  with 
trench,  mound  and  gateway  plainly  visible.  The  sloping  sides  of  the  hill 
are  filled  with  human  bones  that  lie  white  and  undecayed  in  loose  yellow 
sand.  Implements  of  quaint  form,  and  ornaments  in  the  shape  of  squares 
and  half  moons,  marked  with  hieroglyphics,  also  an  urn -like  vessel,  were 
found,  after  a  severe  tempest,  in  a  deep  hollow,  made  by  the  uprooting  of  an 
oak.  Skulls  have  been  disinterred  near  by,  of  sufficient  size  to  encase  the 
head  of  a  full-grown  man,  and  must  have  belonged  to  a  race  of  larger  pro- 
portions even,  than  the  gigantic  Indians  of  Patagonia.  In  company  with 
his  friend  Mr.  Harry  Thomson,  who  takes  a  deep  interest  in  the  subject  of 
Indian  antiquities,  the  author  visited  this  site  of  an  ancient  fortification,  after 
the  plough  had  passed  over  it,  and  succeeded  in  finding  many  curious 
beads,  some  formed  from  the  horns  of  deer,  fragments  of  pottery  and  pipes, 
on  the  bowls  of  which  the  heads  of  fox,  frog  and  wolf  were  ingeniously 
carved. 

And  on  a  tongue  of  land  arrived, 
Outstretching  far  into  the  mere, 
An  emerald  set  in  crystal  clear. — STANZA  xn. 

There  is  a  favorite  place  of  resort  for  pic-nic  parties,  called  Long  Point, 
that  stretches  out  into  the  silvery  Conesus,  a  few  miles  from  Lakeville. 


NOTES.  233 

It  is  covered  with  oaks  of  stately  growth,  and  in  their  shade  rustic  benches 
and  tables  have  been  erected  for  the  accommodation  of  visiters.  All  lovers 
of  the  romantic  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  the  tasteful  proprietor,  the  vene- 
rable James  \Vadsworth,  Esquire,  for  preserving  this  natural  park  from  the 
desecrating  axe. 

Aboriginal  remains,  well  worthy  of  minute  examination,  may  be  seen 
near  the  lake  beach.  The  face  of  the  ground  has  evidently  been  altered 
by  the  hand  of  art;  and  timber,  in  a  remarkable  state  of  preservation,  has 
been  discovered,  four  or  five  feet  below  the  surface,  in  places  where  the 
loose  soil  of  the  bank  has  crumbled  away.  The  blue  hills  in  the  distance, 
partly  clothed  with  the  primitive  forest— the  waters  kissing  the  shore  with 
an  undertone  of  melody— the  plunge  of  fish  and  flap  of  waterfowl — the 
pleasant  murmur  of  the  wind-swept  trees  mingling  with  the  carol  of  sinless 
birds,  are  ministers  of  repose  and  pleasure  to  a  mind  that  has  been  woun- 
ded by  the  "briers  of  this  work-day  world."  It  is  a  bright,  sequestered 
spot,  and  the  fabling  fancy  of  Greece  peopled  haunts  less  picturesque,  with 
Happy  Spirits— a  green  retreat  where  the  retired  poet  could  wear  out  life, 
and  which  the  wayfarer  passes  by  with  reluctance,  thro  ugh  fear  his  eye  will 
never  rest  again  on  sight  so  beautiful. 

Who  from  foul  shame  an  Indian  spared. — STANZA  XV. 
The  Indian  never  forgets  the  individual  who  befriends  him.  Gratitude  is 
as  deeply  rooted  in  bis  breast,  as  the  remembrance  of  a  wrong.  In  the 
language  of  Judge  Story,  "  if  he  had  the  vices  of  savage  life,  he  had  the 
virtues  also.  He  was  true  to  his  country,  his  friends  and  his  home.  If  he 
forgave  not  injury,  neither  did  he  forget  kindness.  If  his  vengeance  was 
terrible,  his  fidelity  and  generosity  were  unconquerable  also.  His  love,  likt 
his  hate,  stopped  not  on  this  side  of  the  grave." 

When  shrieked  the  solitary  Zoon.-— STANZA  xvi. 

The  loon,  or  great  northern  diver—"  L'imbrim  ou  grand  plongeon  de  la 
mer  de  nord  de  Buffon,"  is  regarded,  in  some  parts  of  the  country,  as  a  bird 
of  ill  omen.  The  loon  is  said  to  be  restless  before  a  storm;  and  an  experi- 
enced master  of  a  coasting  vessel  informs  me,  that  he  always  knew  when  a 
tempest  was  approaching,  by  the  cry  of  this  bird,  which  is  very  shrill,  and 
may  be  heard  the  distance  of  a  mile  or  more.  Wilson's  Ornithology. 

An  instant  flashed  the  knife  on  high. — STANZA  xxv. 

Lest  the  reader  might  think  probability  violated  by  making  Wun-nut-hay 
the  stern  author  of  a  bloody  deed,  the  following  extract  from  an  article  on 
the  North  American  Indians,  to  be  found  in  vol.  I.  of  the  Edinburg  Encyclo- 
pedia, is  introduced : 

"  The  Algonquins  being  at  war  with  thelroquois,  a  woman  of  the  former 
nation  happened  to  be  made  prisoner,  and  was  carried  to  one  of  the  villa- 
ges belonging  to  the  latter.  Here  she  was  stripped  naked  ;  and  her  hands 
and  feet  were  bound  with  ropes  in  one  of  their  cabins.  In  this  condition 
«he  remained  for  ten  days,  the  savages  sleeping  around  her  every  night. 
On  the  eleventh  night,  when  they  were  asleep,  she  found  means  to  disengage 


234  NOTES. 

one  of  her  bands ;  and  freeing  herself  from  the  ropes,  she  went  immediately 
to  the  door  of  the  hut  where  she  was  lodged.  Though  she  had  now  an  op- 
portunity of  escaping  unperceived,  her  revengeful  temper  could  not  let 
slip  so  favorable  an  opportunity  of  killing  one  of  her  enemies.  The  attempt 
wa«  manifestly  at  the  hazard  of  her  own  life ;  yet,  seizing  a  hatchet,  she 
plunged  it  into  the  head  of  a  savage  who  lay  next  her,  and  fled." 

Weary  with  flight,  her  agile  form 
Against  a  hemlock  stem  she  leaned. — STANZA  xxx. 

When  fatigued  with  the  toils  of  the  chase,  or  requiring  rest  on  a  perilous 
march,  the  red  man  goes  on  his  way  refreshed  after  a  brief  sleep  with  his 
back  to  a  tree,  in  a  leaning  posture.  "  For  several  successive  nights  the 
warrior  did  not  sleep,  only  when  he  reclined,  as  usual,  a  little  before  day, 
with  his  back  to  a  tree."  Adair's  General  Observations  on  the  American 
Indians. 

By  vapory  phantoms  of  the  dead. 

The  Indians  religiously  believe,  that  their  old  burial  places  and  battle- 
fields are  visited  nightly  by  the  stalking  ghosts  of  the  dead ;  also  that  the 
footsteps  of  the  murderer  are  dogged  by  the  restless  shadow  of  the  slain. 
"  Friends,"  said  the  tall  chief  to  his  blood-stained  tribesmen,  "  you  have 
killed  an  Indian  in  a  time  of  peace,  and  made  the  wind  hear  his  groans,  and 
the  earth  drink  his  blood.  You  are  bad  Indians !  Yes,  you  are  very  bad 
Indians ;  and  what  can  you  do  ?  If  you  go  into  the  woods  to  live  alone,  the 
ghost  of  John  Jemison  will  follow  you,  crying,  blood !  blood  !  and  will  give 
you  no  peace!  If  you  go  to  the  land  of  your  nation,  there  the  ghost  will 
attend  you,  and  say  to  your  relatives,  See  my  murderers !  If  you  plant,  it 
will  blast  your  corn  ;  if  you  hunt,  it  will  scare  your  game  ;  and  when  you 
arc  asleep,  its  groans  and  the  sight  of  an  avenging  tomahawk  will  awake 
you  I"  On  the  banks  of  the  bright  trout  stream  that  flows  through  the  farm 
of  John  McKay,  Esquire,  at  Caledonia,  was  a  "place  of  torture,"  called 
"  Gan-ee-a-di"  in  the  Seneca  dialect.  The  Indians  have  a  tradition  that 
groans  proceed  from  this  memorable  spot,  at  midnight,  and  that  ghastly 
shapes  peering  through  the  leaves,  have  often  frightened  the  belated  hunter. 

I  was  informed  by  Captain  Jones,  that  the  wild  glen  at  Fall  Brook,  near 
Geneseo,  has  been  the  scene  of  a  tragic  story,  and  that  the  place  is  haun- 
ted, after  nightfall,  by  a  frightful,  headless  spectre.  The  Indians  believe 
that  it  is  a  spot  accursed ;  but  the  tourist  looks  with  delight  upon  a  scene 
where  beauty  contends  for  mastery  with  the  sublime. 

CANTO  VI. 

Stained  like  the  brush  and  leaves  around  them.— STANZA  IV. 
••  They  paint  their  bodies  of  the  same  color  with  the  leaves  and  brush,  and 
lie  close  to  the  ground  all  day." 


NOTES.  235 

Like  figures  carved  from  granite  gray. — STANZA  V. 
The  savage  of  America,  when  lying  in  ambush,  endures  the  pangs  of  hun- 
ger and  thirst  without  complaint  or  motion.  "His  eyes  like  those  of  the 
Argus,  see  every  thing,  his  ears  hear  every  sound,  and  all  his  senses  em- 
ployed show  that  his  soul  is  as  active  as  his  body  is  passive."  Indian 
Wars. 

Taught  by  the  Jesuit  to  pray, 
With  hand  imbrued  in  human  gore. — STANZA  VI. 

"  The  French  priests  boast  indeed  of  their  converts,  but  they  have  made 
more  proselytes  to  politics  than  religion."  Smith's  History  of  N.  Y.  p.  76. 
"  To  their  former  motives  were  now  added,  not  only  a  thirst  for  revenge, 
but  also  an  enthusiastic  frenzy  inspired  from  the  Romish  religion.  The 
French  priests  even  went  witli  the  savages,  as  greater  barbarians,  to  say 
mass  amidst  the  holy  work  of  massacre."  Indian  Wars. 

Of  proven  valor  was  the  chief. — STANZA  vm. 

"  The  Marquis  De  Nonville  was  distinguished  as  a  brave  and  active  offi- 
cer." Murray's  British  America,  vol.  i.  p.  183, 

Well  might  their  general  declare 
Eye  never  looked  on  vale  more  fair.. — STANZA  xm. 

The  valley  of  the  Genesee,  though  romantic  and  wild  at  and  around  the 
Upper  Falls,  is  more  remarkable  for  the  quiet  beauty  of  its  landscape  than 
for  startling  sublimity.  "  The  alluvial  flats  through  which  the  river  mean- 
ders, are  from  one  to  two  miles  in  width,  as  level  as  a  placid  lake,  and  as 
fertile,  to  say  the  least,  as  any  land  in  this  state.  Thousands  of  acres  of 
these  flats  were  cleared  of  their  timber  when  Indian  tradition,  commences 
their  description.  These  flats  are  encompassed  on  each  side  by  a  rolling 
country  gradually  rising  as  it  recedes  from  the  river,  but.  in  no  place  so 
abrupt  as  to  merit  the  cognomen  of  a  hill.  This  was  the  terrestrial  para- 
dise of  the  Senecas,  and  to  this  tract  they  gave  the  name  of  Gen-ish-a-u, 
Chen-ne-se-co,  Gen-ne-se-o  or  Gen-ne-see,  as  pronounced  by  the  different 
Indian  Tribes,  and  being  interpreted,  all  meaning  substantially  the  samCj 
to  wit :  shining,  clear  opening— pleasant,  clear  opening— elear  valley,  or 
pleasant  open  valley." 

Oft  would  some  scout  thick  top  of  tree 
His  screened  observatory  make. — STANZA  XV. 

"Their  grand  object,  however,  is  to  surprise  a  village,  and,  if  possible,  the 
principal  one  belonging  to  the  hated  tribe.  Thither  all  their  steps  tend,  as 
they  steal  like  silent  ghosts  through  the  lonely  forest.  On  approaching  it, 
they  cast  hasty  glances  from  the  tops  of  trees,  or  hillocks,  and  then  retreat 
into  the  thickest  covert."  MURRAY. 

The  pictured  outlines  of  a  man 

Transfixed  by  dart,  by  hatchet  cleft. — STANZA  xviil. 
By  a  few  rude  images  on  the  bark  of  trees,  they  communicate  to  others 
whatsoever  intelligence  they  deem  important.    "There  are  some  Indian 


236  NOTES. 

Gazettes.  On  a  tree  in  Moultonboro'  is  carved  a  history  of  on«  of  their 
expeditions.  The  number  of  the  killed  and  captivated  were  represented  by 
so  many  human  figures.  The  stroke  of  a  knife  across  the  throat  designated 
the  killed.  Even  the  sexes  had  some  intelligible  mark  of  distinction. 

They  use  many  ingenious  expedients  to  communicate  their  ideas  to  their 
absent  friends.  By  erecting  a  pole  and  marking  its  shadow  on  the  sand,  or 
pointing  it  so  as  to  cast  no  shadow,  they  are  able  to  inform  their  followers, 
at  what  time  of  the  day  they  were  in  such  a  place,  and  by  lopping  down  a 
few  bushes  they  clearly  intimate  which  way  they  are  gone." 

"  In  Kcllyvale,  is  yet  to  be  seen  something  like  an  attempt  to  painting. 
The  bark  of  a  large  tree  is  stripped  off  as  high  as  a  man  can  reach ;  with  a 
Btainof  a  lively  color,  an  Indian  with  a  gun  is  painted,  with  his  face  towards 
the  north.  Beside  him,  is  a  representation  of  a  skeleton  sketched  with  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  anatomical  exactness.  The  whole  is  a  kind  of  gazette, 
in  which  the  Indian  informs  his  company  which  was  to  follow  him,  that  one 
of  their  number  was  dead,  and  that  the  survivor  was  proceeding  with  safety 
on  his  way  to  Canada."  Indian  Wars. 

The  ponderous  war-club's  weighty  stroke, 
Clubbed  gun-stocks  into  pieces  broke.— STANZA  xxm. 
Th«ir  weapons  of  war  are  very  few.  Their  war-club  was  formed  out  of 
a  root,  or  limb  of  a  tree,  made  into  a  convenient  shape,  with  a  knot  at  one 
end,  of  use  in  case  of  close  engagement  with  an  enemy.  A  stake  hardened 
in  the  fire  at  one  end,  was  used  as  a  sort  of  spontoon,  useful  in  destroying  an 
enemy,  or  keeping  him  at  a  little  distance.  Their  lance  was  pointed  with 
a  flint  or  a  bone.  A  war-club  was  sometimes  used,  with  a  blade  like  the 
(pear  of  a  lance  inserted  in  the  side  near  the  upper  end  of  it.  Col.  Stone, 
in  his  life  of  Brant,  alludes  to  one  with  marks  on  its  handle  denoting  the 
number  of  persons  killed,  and  scalps  taken  by  the  means  of  it. 

Warned  by  a  runner  of  his  band 
That  Yonnondio  was  at  hand.— STANZA  xxxm. 

"Their  orator  came  forward  and  addressed  the  Governor  General  by  the 
title  of  Ononthio  (or  Yonnondio,)  which,  in  their  language,  signifies  great 
mountain;  and  though  it  was  in  reference  to  his  name  of  Montmagny,  they 
continued  ever  after  to  apply  this  term  to  the  French  viceroy.  They  often 
added  the  respectful  appellation  of  Father."  Murray's  British  America, 
vol.  i.  p.  166. 

Dark  fingers  in  his  hair  enicreathcd, 

Secured  by  aid  of  teeth  and  knife, 

Grim,  reddened  trophies  of  the  strife.— STANZA  XXXV. 
Placing  a  foot  on  the  neck  of  his  fallen  enemy,  and  twisting  a  hand  in  the 
hair,  the  warrior  draws  a  long,  sharp-pointed  knife,  specially  formed 
for  this  operation  ;  then  cutting  a  circle  around  the  crown  of  the  head,  by 
a  few  skilful  scoops,  sometimes  aided  by  the  teeth,  the  hair  and  skin  are  de- 
tached. See  Charlevoix,  Rogers'  Concise  Account  and  Adair. 


NOTES.  237 

Reserved  for  torture  at  the  stake, 

By  tribesmen  filed  with  rage  and  grief, 
That  glad  the  wandering  ghost  would  make 

Of  Can-ne-hoot  their  fallen  chief. — STANZA  XL. 

In  the  dreadful  work  of  torture  the  women  take  the  lead,  and  seem  trans- 
formed  into  raging  furies.  She,  to  glut  whose  vengeance  the  doom  has  been 
specially  pronounced,  invokes  the  spirit  of  her  husband,  her  brother,  or 
her  son,  who  has  fallen  in  battle,  or  died  amid  torture,  bidding  him  come 
now  and  be  appeased. 

CANTO  VII. 

Thickly  the  Senecas  overspread, 

With  hiding  brush  and  leaves,  their  dead. — STANZA  I. 
It  is  a  custom  with  Indian  warriors  to  conceal  their  losses  from  the  enemy. 
They  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost  to  prevent  their  slain  from  falling  into 
hostile  hands.    Even  while  the  battle  is  raging,  old  Indian  fighters  have 
seen 

"  Figures  of  men  that  crouch  and  creep  unheard, 
And  bear  away  the  dead." 

While  rose  from  forest  edge  a  cry, 

Now  plaintive  low — now  shrill  and  high, — STANZA  III. 

At  the  close  of  the  expedition,  the  warriors  repair  to  their  village,  and,  in 
approaching,  announce  its  results  by  various  signals  well  understood  among 
their  families.  According  to  the  most  approved  custom,  the  evil  tidings  are 
first  communicated.  A  herald  advances  before  the  troop,  and  for  every 
kinsman  who  has  fallen,  sounds  the  death-whoop,  a  shrill,  lengthened  note, 
ending  in  an  elevated  key. 

An  interval  is  then  allowed,  during  which  the  burst  of  grief  excited  by 
their  tidings,  may  be  in  some  degree  exhausted.  Then  rises  the  loud,  qua- 
vering sound  of  the  war-whoop,  whick  by  its  successive  repetitions  ex- 
pressed the  number  of  captives  brought  home  as  the  fruits  of  victory. 

The  barbarous  joy  thus  kindled,  banishes  for  the  moment  all  trace  of 
lamentation.  See  Adair,  Charlevoix. 

"There  was  no  prisoner  put  to  the  torture,  or  attired  in  the  raven  death- 
cap  on  this  occasion,  but  the  prisoners  were  paraded,  and  the  scalps  borne 
in  the  procession,  as  would  have  been  the  standard  taken  in  civilized  war- 
fare in  the  celebration  of  a  triumph.  For  every  scalp  and  for  every  prisoner 
taken,  the  scalp-yell,  or  as  it  is  sometimes  called  the  "  death  halloo,"  was 
raised  in  all  its  mingled  tones  of  triumph  and  terror."  Stone's  Life  of 
Brant. 

The  imitative  powers  of  the  red  man  almost  exceed  belief.  On  one  occa- 
sion, says  Champlain,  they  constructed  a  wooden  enclosure  of  a  triangular 
form,  each  side  nearly  a  mile  long,  with  a  narrow  opening  at  the  point,  into 
which,  by  loud  cries,  and  imitating  the  howling  of  wolves,  they  contrived  to 
drive  all  the  deer  in  the  vicinity. 


238  NOTES. 

For  lord  had  Can-ne-wau-gvs  lost.— STANZA  V. 

In  the  Seneca  dialect,  the  word  Cannewaugus  means  "stinking  water." 
It  was  the  aboriginal  name  of  the  far-famed  Avon  Springs,  the  medical  pro- 
perties of  which  have  been  found  unsurpassed  in  the  cure  of  various  diseases. 
On  the  east  side  of  the  Genesee,  near  the  old  site  of  Cannewaugus,  the  plea- 
sant village  of  West  Avon  crowns  an  elevated  ridge  of  land,  environed  by 
romantic  scenery,  and  overlooking  the  river's  green  and  quiet  valley. 

He  calls  upon  yon  captive  pale, 
The  briers  from  his  path  to  clear.— STANZA  vni. 

The  relatives  of  a  fallen  warrior  often  demand  of  their  tribe  the  imme- 
diate execution  of  a  captive,  to  appease  his  troubled  ghost,  and  clear  away 
the  briers,  for  his  safe  passage  to  the  hunting-grounds  of  the  happy. 

Tormentors  drew  his  foot  upon 

The  fatal  bear-skin  moccason, 

And  flaming  torch  placed  o'er  his  head. — STANZA  X. 

'•  The  captive  is  informed  of  his  fate  by  being  invested  with  moccasons 
of  black  bear's  skin,  and  having  placed  over  his  head  a  flaming  torch,  the 
sure  indications  of  his  doom. 

Before  the  fatal  scene  begins,  however,  he  is  allowed  a  short  interval  to 
sing  his  death-song,  which  he  performs  in  a  triumphant  tone. 

He  proclaims  the  joy  with  which  he  goes  to  the  land  of  souls,  where  he 
will  meet  his  brave  ancestors,  who  taught  him  the  great  lesson  to  fight  and 
the  greater  one  to  suffer. 

He  recounts  his  war-like  exploits,"  particularly  those  performed  against 
the  kindred  of  his  tormentors;  and  if  there  was  any  one  of  them  whom  he 
vanquished  and  caused  to  expire  amid  tortures,  he  loudly  proclaims  it.  He 
declares  his  inextinguishable  desire  to  cut  their  flesh,  and  to  drink  their 
blood  to  the  last  drop.  The  scene  is  considered,  even  when  compared  to 
the  field  of  battle,  as  the  great  theatre  of  Indian  glory.  When  two  pri- 
soners were  about  to  be  tortured  by  the  French  at  Quebec,  a  charitable 
hand  privately  supplied  a  weapon  with  which  one  of  them  killed  himself; 
but  the  other  derided  his  effeminacy,  and  proudly  prepared  himself  for  the 
fiery  trial."  Murray's  British  America,  vol.  i.  p.  120. 

Though  wearing  still  the  pallid  shade 
By  fathers  caught  from  ocean's  spray. — STANZA  XVII. 
The  red-man  believes  that  the  first  parents  of  the  pale  race  sprang  from 
the  foam  of  the  salt  water. 

And  Can-ne-hoot  on  him  conferred 
A  name  that  rings  like  battle-word. 

They  are  exceedingly  bigoted  as  to  names.  They  give  themselves  those 
which  are  very  expressive,  denoting  some  interesting  object  in  nature,  or 
some  historical  event.  They  change  their  own  names,  as  new  events  pre- 
sent occasions.  They  are  much  pleased  when  the  white  people  assign  them 
names ;  and  in  return  they  select  names  for  their  white  friends,  which  are 


NOTES.  239 

strikingly  significant  of  some  prominent  trait  in  their  character,  shewing 
that  they  are  critical  observers  of  human  nature.  "  The  Indians  wear,  by 
way  of  amulet  or  charm,  the  feathers  of  certain  birds  whose  names  they 
bear,  believing  that  they  confer  on  the  wearer  all  the  virtues  or  excellencies 
of  those  birds." 

A  right  war-captive  to  demand. — STANZA  xxn. 

The  survivors  of  the  slain,  may  demand  revenge  for  their  loss,  or  solicit 
that  the  captives  be  spared  to  supply  the  vacancy.  The  stranger,  being 
received  into  one  of  the  families  as  a  husband,  brother  or  son,  is  treated 
with  the  utmost  tenderness.  Those  who  perhaps  immediately  before  ex- 
hausted their  ingenuity  in  tormenting  him,  now  nurse  the  wounds  they  have 
made,  and  load  him  with  caresses. 


m 


, 


< 


'YB   I378C 


948001 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


